The Jedi Dawn
by Audreidi
Summary: Chapter twelve: the dead end. Fic scheduled to be revamped, and extensively at that.
1. Imperial Pawn

Ta-da!!! The AU sequel to my fic Hermitage. If you haven't read Hermitage yet…well, it's recommended, but not required. I will be making a few references to it, however.

I will try to make the next chapter longer…I promise. And as far as I know, this idea hasn't been worked on yet, but if it has, I _would_ like to know.

I've actually been having quite a bit of fun on this fic so far, so I do hope the general public likes it as much as they said they did Hermitage.

So here for Jedi, Sith, and non-sensitives alike, taking place a month prior to ESB…

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The Jedi Dawn

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He awoke.

The liquid rushing into and past his ears was warm and gentle, and strangely thick, more so than water.

He became confused at that. He didn't know why he should remember what water was, and wasn't sure how he knew he shouldn't remember…

Puzzled, he brushed the meandering thought aside and slowly opened his eyes.

He was suspended, encased in a tank that held the liquid; the cylinder was transparent and he could see through it into the dimly-lit room, but couldn't make anything out. The light that shone down on him from the top of the cylinder was bright, and the rest of the room almost completely dark.

Regardless, he knew someone was there, watching him awaken. How had the person known it would be now? he wondered.

He clenched and relaxed his hands, testing the muscles, and brought them up to explore the thing that was attached to his face, over his nose and mouth. His fingers searched it, tapped it. A breathing mask.

Were there any other things attached to him? He checked, and found a small tube running from his left arm. Apart from that, there was nothing. He felt remotely that he should be ashamed because of this, but couldn't remember why.

The liquid's flow around him gradually slowed to a stop. He wondered at this, and looked up to see the liquid's surface coming down to meet his head. It was draining, he realized, looking down to see the grated hole that had opened up to suck out the fluid. His feet touched the bottom and he stood as the liquid drained lower.

As the last few streams disappeared, he investigated a way to take off the breath mask, knowing he didn't need it any longer…but again, he didn't know why not, or how he knew.

The strap that held it around his head stretched at his pull; he tugged it off and released it, letting it hang by its hose as he turned his attention to the small tube going into his arm. Pinching it, he gave a sharp tug, pulling a small needle at the end of the tube out of his arm, and was surprised at the twinge of pain. A red droplet blossomed at the spot, mingling with the wetness of the fluid on his still-damp skin. He picked some up on his finger and looked at it closely, curious.

The clear cylinder around him suddenly twisted to one side. Machinery whirred softly, and it rose away from the floor he stood on.

The recycled-smelling air was cold, flowing past him and taking the evaporating fluid with it, along with his surface body heat. The light above his head was no longer being refracted down to oblivion by the cylinder; it spread throughout the room, but the lighting was still poor enough that he could not make out the lone figure standing there.

But he could certainly hear him. Loud mechanical breathing filled his ears; he cringed at both the sudden volume and the forbidding sound itself. He was afraid, for some reason, and he didn't like the feeling…

***

Vader stood impassionately, watching the boy cower. If the youth had grown over the regular period of standard years to reach his current level of physical maturity, he would have been about seventeen. But in reality, the boy had taken just three years to grow thus far. Now that the growth acceleration had stopped, he would age normally.

Of course, clones had been made to grow much more quickly than a three-year period. But Vader had wanted to supervise this one personally, to make sure nothing had gone wrong. After all, the cloning process for this particular specimen had been more…delicate. The technicians had had but the most obscure sample of DNA to work on, and he was pleased to note that their claims of professional accuracy were genuine, and the Spaarti cloning cylinder that had been raided from Kamino along with thousands of others had also done its job well.

Evidently not knowing what else to do, the boy sat down, shivering, looking around in utter bewilderment.

"Get up," Vader commanded, hoping for convenience's sake that the boy at least could understand Basic. Most of the other clones of Force-sensitive sentients (grown in the distant past) had been able to retain enough memory to function, such as being able to take care of themselves and understanding and speaking the first language of their original, a few even recalling complex mathematical skills.

The youth licked his lips and stood, clasping his hands in front of him nervously. He opened his mouth, wanting to speak, and said in a cracked voice, "Wh-where am I?"

No answer was forthcoming, only that loud breathing. Experimentally, almost pathetically, he croaked, "Who am I?"

"Those," said Vader, "are questions that shall be answered in due time. Come here."

The boy followed the voice hesitantly, stumbling once or twice as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Finally, he rose his head to make out a death-mask of sorts that rose ominously almost an entire foot above him, and his breath caught in his throat. Even though he felt cold throughout his body, he started sweating as fear gripped him.

"You would do well to remember such a feeling," the deep voice rumbled. "You are here to be instructed, not cared after." Vader waved on the lights.

The boy's eyes widened at the sight of the terrifyingly imposing figure, looming at least a head over him, and sensed immediately that here was authority. "Y-yes, sir." He wondered how this huge man had known of his fear, even in the dark. If this towering sentient _was_ a man.

Vader gestured to the neatly-folded clothing at the end of a long counter. "Dress quickly."

Still wide-eyed, the boy walked over and picked up the black outfit. Vader was pleased to note that the youth was rapidly gaining more grace and agility in his movements; he hadn't stumbled once on his way to the table.

The boy hesitated, then remembered what to put on first. In the space of less than a minute he stood fully dressed, standing uncertainly by the table.

"Tell me what you remember," ordered Vader.

The boy blinked. "Not much, really, sir. I remember how to talk, and walk…I think I know what I'm supposed to be, but I don't know who I am, sir. Can you tell me?"

For a fleeting moment, Vader wondered what it would be like to wake up without an identity, without memory…he swept the thought into disregard. "You will be informed later. Now follow me, and keep silent." He strode out of the room, knowing the boy would follow.

Vader had already seen what he had hoped to. For all the boy's seeming total lack of knowledge, his ice-blue eyes shone with a sharp intelligence and a burning curiousity to back it up, barely held in check. The boy had even retained all the nuances and affections of speech that his original had possessed. Perhaps some things were hard-wired into a person, after a while.

***

The youth followed him through the halls quietly. Vader could hardly hear the boy's footsteps, though he didn't need any of the five physical senses to know the boy was just behind him. The young man's presence blazed with unchecked power, energy that would soon be harnessed and put into use.

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His original might have called this "poetic justice", thought Vader, ever so slightly amused.

The palace halls were empty except for a few Imperial officers they encountered. Each one would stop and nod respectfully at Vader before hurrying on their way. The boy took this all in and realized they held every bit as much fear for this masked man as he did, if not more.

They walked on for fifteen minutes. The boy was beginning to wonder if they even had a destination when his leader came to a stop in front of a towering pair of wooden doors, decorated lavishly. They slid open smoothly to a room that seemed to suck in the light from the hall, killing it as soon as it entered.

The boy's neck hairs stood on end. Something in there was bad, was _wrong_—he could feel it radiating from the open doorway, somehow.

"Come with me," Vader instructed, and walked inside.

The youth followed him dubiously, not knowing what to expect.

The large room was almost as dim as the first room had been. A massive window directly at the other end let in the lights of the night city, a filter in the transparisteel taking away the glare, subsiding the blaring light to a soft glow which was the only thing that lit the room. A large object was silhouetted before the window; the boy thought it to be a chair, and trailed after Vader until the Sith lord came to a stop at the apex of a wide set of stairs.

The chair slowly swiveled around, allowing him to see its withered occupant.

Two hawk-like yellow eyes settled on him, piercing his very soul, holding him riveted. The voice that ensued belied the nefarious eyes, though it sounded as dry as the wrinkled parchment skin.

"You are finally awake." The old hooded man in the chair chuckled, purposefully keeping his cackling laugh toned to a more friendly note. "This is a face I have not seen so young for more than forty years."

The boy was confused. "Who are you, sir?"

The Emperor slowly rose from his chair and motioned the boy to come forward. "Come, look out the window with me, boy."

He came over until they stood side by side. The Emperor shut off the filter, and the light of nightside Coruscant blazed in. "Look out, all the way to the horizon."

The boy looked obediently, seeing no reason not to.

"Now look to either side, boy, as far as you can. Look up into the sky, and see all the stars within your view." The Emperor's eyes glittered in their sockets like two of the celestial bodies as the boy took it all in. "Everything you see is mine. This planet belongs to me, as do all the stars and their respective planets. All these buildings you see and all the transports belong to me." He paused a moment to let it sink in, then added, "Even the people themselves are mine."

The boy started at this, and stared at the shrunken old man. "But no one can own people."

"Oh, no? I own their land. I own their jobs, their income; I control their lives. That, my young friend, is how I own them."

The boy paused. "Does that mean you own me?"

"Yes."

He seemed to consider this. "That doesn't feel…right."

"You will grow accustomed to it, boy." Palpatine cackled, and waved a claw-like hand at his servant. "Lord Vader has, as have everyone in this building and more."

The boy glanced back at the masked man, for whom he now had a name. "Do you know my name, sir?" he asked Palpatine.

The Emperor smiled, a wholly unpleasant expression. "Your name, boy, is Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," the boy repeated solemnly. "Who are you, sir?"

Though the old man was a bit shorter than him, he suddenly appeared as a kilometer high, eyes glittering regally, creating a lasting impression in the youth's mind. "I am your Emperor Palpatine."

"And his Highness' wish," intoned Lord Vader, "is your every command."

***

Mara Jade was on her way.

She had received explicit instructions from her master to simply come to Imperial Center, to his throne room. It would be the first time she had seen him since she had been dispatched on her first assignment as the Emperor's Hand.

So now Mara Jade walked briskly down the hallways in semi-formal dress, her startling red hair flowing loose behind her, malachite-green eyes gleaming in anticipation. For she believed that she was about to receive an assignment of the greatest importance (which was not far from the truth), and she had few, if any reservations about what this might mean.

That abruptly changed as soon as she stepped into the throne room. Oh, the Emperor was there all right, but so was Lord Vader…and a teenaged boy that she was sure she had never seen before, but was somehow vaguely familiar all the same, something about the facial set, she was sure.

Mara came to the top of the stairs and knelt. "My master."

Palpatine, who had already turned from the window, was coming around toward her. "Welcome back, Jade. You may rise."

She did so, and fixed her gaze on the boy beside the window. He fidgeted slightly, obviously uncomfortable.

"Come here, boy," said the Emperor. "Mara Jade is a skilled servant of mine, and I have called her here to meet you."

The youth came forward and hesitantly met her gaze.

Mara was flabbergasted, and more than a little angry. Surely she hadn't come here solely to exchange pleasantries with a frightened little vrelt—

Her master's voice cut into her thoughts. "Mara Jade, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I have assigned him to you as an apprentice of sorts. You will teach him all you have learned as you take him along with you."

The rage that flared up in her nearly overwhelmed her surprise. _Obi-Wan Kenobi? And I'm supposed to _teach_ him?!_

"A clone?" she asked in a controlled voice. "But where from did you acquire a genetic sample?"

"From a single hair off Kenobi's old robe. Lord Vader brought it in to the technicians three years ago."

Kenobi's young clone listened in to the conversation with something akin to confused interest. Mara eyed him inimically, then cast a stray bit of her perception back to Darth Vader. He stood wordlessly, the steady in-out tempo of his breathing the only sound emanating from him.

She was disgusted; she felt as if her skill was being utterly wasted. But she hid the feeling, which evidently was not mutual, and bowed. "As you wish."

***

The two were hardly out of the throne room, the doors shutting behind them, when he turned to her. "Why did you accept me if you didn't want to?"

She looked at him, quietly smoldering. He was incrementally shorter than she was, at least. "I have no choice in the matter. If the Emperor didn't take a liking to you so much, I would have already killed you, understand? So shut your sniveling face and do as I tell you."

Abashed, he followed her down the hall, thinking over what he had heard.

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I am a clone, grown from cell samples of a single hair collected by Lord Vader. But who was my original? Was his_ name Obi-Wan Kenobi? I suppose so; it seemed to be familiar to Mara Jade…but why?_

***

Their first stop was an equipment room, as it were. Rows upon rows of shelves were covered with all sorts of useful, sometimes deadly gadgets.

Mara moved with steely grace, circling the small counter that displayed an assortment of knives. She took two and shoved them into small scabbards on her belt, then turned to Obi-Wan. "First things first. Do you know how to throw a blade?"

He shook his head numbly.

"Fine," she said disgustedly. "You'll learn, then." Selecting one, she handed it to him. "Take a knife that you can get a good, solid grip on."

He wrapped his fingers around the handle dexterously, surprising her by holding it very close to a perfect position. "This one feels good, I suppose."

She smiled thinly, and took three steps backward. "Good. Now throw it at me."

"What?" He was taken off guard.

Mara stepped up to him and said matter-of-factly, "Once I walk over there and face you, you'd better throw it at me or you'll be missing an ear. Understood?"

She thought the look on his face was priceless as he stammered, "Uh…yes."

She smiled again and walked to the end of the room, turning to face him. "Throw it, Kenobi."

Swallowing nervously, he hefted the blade, sighted, and flicked his wrist.

Mara had barely enough time to focus on slowing it to a stop, concentrating so hard she thought she might burst a vessel. The knife hovered in front of her, bare centimeters from hitting her neck dead center.

Kenobi's eyes were wide.

She smiled casually, and let it fall into her hand. "Maybe I'll teach you that little trick later. Nice throw, for a beginner. Now, stand still while I show you something."

He stood transfixed as his own knife came hurtling back toward him, grazing his ear and thudding into the wood cabinet just behind him. Another one whizzed past his other ear, and she threw a third, long knife to stick between his knees, quivering.

Mara laughed and pulled the long knife out while he pressed himself back against the cabinet. They had been closer shots than he would have liked.

"Think you can do that, Kenobi?" she asked him sweetly, with a voice of poisoned honey.

"No," he answered, quite honestly. "Not yet."

She regarded him. "You know what, Kenobi, I'm beginning to like you. How's that?"

He blinked. "Better, I suppose."

"Let's start over again," she said sincerely. "What do you say we go out and have supper, and work out a few details?"

"That…sounds good." He was beginning to calm down somewhat.

Mara favored him with a beautiful smile and pulled one of her knives out of the cabinet. "I can see you're ready to learn lesson number one."

She struck without warning; the tip of her blade opened the skin from the outer corner of his right eye down to his jawline in a neatly curved slit.

He cried out and clutched at his face, turning away from her.

"Lesson of the day," she hissed in his ear. "You will never go through your life without it treating you like shit. I think you're smart enough to get the message." She collected the rest of her desired gear, ignoring him as he crouched on the floor, trying to stop the blood.

Trying to stop the pain, that had been inflicted inside and out.

Mara smiled tightly. Object lessons were always the best kind. "Now it's bedtime. You wake up early tomorrow, you hear? Tomorrow we'll start the longest crash course you've ever been in. And you'd better be careful; we wouldn't want to mark up that pretty little face of yours."

***

He only got five hours of sleep that night, but he supposed it was a lot considering he had only been awake for two hours so far in his life.

So he rose while the sun crept over the horizon, and within minutes he was sitting at the small computer in the corner of the room, in front of the one window.

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Database search. Obi-Wan Kenobi.

No results were displayed. Puzzled, he began a new search.

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Military. Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Still no results. He tried yet a different tack.

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Deceased. Obi-Wan Kenobi.

One result. He eagerly asked for details.

The page opened, and to his dismay it was almost completely blank. The only information was that this Obi-Wan Kenobi had died at thirty-nine years of age, just after the Clone Wars.

He furrowed his brow as he read: _Association: the Jedi Order._

So he keyed in: _Database search. Jedi Order._

A summary popped up, half describing the Order's history…and half condemning it. He blinked in surprise as he read of the traitorous acts it had engaged in, bringing down the former government…

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"His Royal Highness then took it upon himself to restore order to the galaxy, and his magnificent Empire rose from the ashes of the functionless Old Republic. The threat of the Jedi is no more."

He wasn't sure what to make of it. He was the clone of a traitor, as it appeared…

"You might try looking under the listings of generals in the Clone Wars," remarked a smooth voice from the doorway.

He started and turned to see Mara Jade leaning against the doorframe, arms folded. "He was a general?"

"One of few that had a good sense of what was going on, and what to do about it. But he was a fool regardless," she added.

"Why do you say that?"

"To be a Jedi is to be a fool. Oh, and he didn't actually die at thirty-nine. His death was only three years ago, when he was fifty-seven. But," she said, fingering one of her knife handles absently, "I'm sure you can keep that little tidbit to yourself."

"But why do they plant lies in the database?" he asked, genuinely perplexed. "It's almost like—"

"Propaganda?" she finished for him. "Not really. What I just told you is classified, and it had better stay that way."

He nodded, and hesitated before asking, "Why did you tell me that?"

Mara eyed him coldly. "Because it's the truth. I'm not exactly one to tell lies when I don't need to. For example, I think you're an annoying naïve little bastard that is still completely worthless to the galaxy thus far, and quite frankly I have no qualms about telling you that."

He sat stiffly. "That opinion will change."

"And you're hopelessly idealistic, too," she sneered. "I suggest you start shaping up now or I might feel inclined to reopen your face."

His mouth twitched. The gash on his right cheek had been shallow, but it still wasn't completely healed over.

"Tell me, Kenobi," she said in a soft, dangerous voice, "if I were to kiss you, what would you do?"

"I would watch for your knife," he answered, this time without hesitation.

She raised an eyebrow. "Maybe there's hope for you yet. Follow me, and don't do anything stupid."

***

The equipment room wasn't very large, just big enough to contain every kind of exercise machine imaginable. He scanned the room, feeling somewhat lost. "How often do you come here?"

"I haven't been in this palace for five years." She motioned him over.

He was surprised, to put it mildly. It seemed she knew the building inside and out, from their long walk through the halls. _I suppose she has a good memory._

"Topographical recall," she said, easing herself to a sitting position on one of the machines.

He blinked. "What? How did you do that?"

She looked straight at him. "In this job, forgetting a single detail can easily lead you to a slow and painful death." She smiled, seeming to imagine him meeting such a fate. "I can't read your mind, but that doesn't seem to matter as I don't have that hard of a time just reading your face. Now sit down, right there." She pointed to the machine beside hers. "I want to see your limits. Not that I expect much."

Although he had, in truth, spent the three years of his existence floating unconsciously in a tank, his muscles had been stimulated to develop by a device that released small amounts of electricity. Twice a day for half an hour, he had been getting exercise in that form for the past two years. But his wiry musculature was still somewhat lacking when it came to tasks such as this. So she wasn't surprised when he slackened off after a few minutes on the lowest setting, breathing heavily. The particular machine he was on was designed to exercise every major muscle group in the body, and she saw the sheen of sweat on his face.

"Stop," she ordered, and he relaxed. "That's good enough for now; we'll move on to something else."

***

Over the course of the morning, he discovered "something else" meant sparring lessons, working on his aim at the blaster range, throwing knives, and beginning to employ something she called the Force to communicate with her silently. He was given half an hour for lunch, then she plunged him into fencing, studying history, and memory enhancement techniques. 

He had effectively been worked into complete exhaustion by the end of the day, and was beginning to drift off during the meditation when he received a sharp slap upside his right cheek, sending a fresh wave of pain through the itching slash on his face. Feeling as if the entire right side of his face was on fire, his eyes snapped open. Now fully awake, he put a hand to his cheek and stared up at her standing over him.

"You sleep when I tell you to," she growled. "Get up."

He stood, watching her apprehensively. She had struck hard enough for the bottom end of the slash to open again, and a small drop of blood trailed down his jaw.

"Do you remember everything you've done today?"

He nodded once, letting the trail of blood meander under his chin and slow to a stop.

"Good. You'll be doing this five days a week for three months. One day of the week you're going to learn piloting skills and general technology, and the last day will be yours if I'm satisfied with your effort. But if I'm not pleased, it'll be just like the other five days. Now go and have supper. I'm done with you for today." She left the room.

The window was left open, admitting the cool night air into the room. He shuddered, goosebumps raising along his arms, and went to close it.

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It was cold. Howling wind blasted the jagged mountain ranges with swirling snow as the sky darkened, and a lone rider trotted across the landscape on a strange furred biped creature, searching desperately—

He stumbled backwards, the vision flashing out of his mind as fast as it had come.

But for all its obscurity, the vision had told him one thing. _Go._

Go where? he wondered desolately.

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Hoth. The name echoed, shadowing the brief vision.

His mind buzzed frantically with questions. Why was he supposed to go to Hoth? Who—or what—had sent him the vision? How was he to get there? When was he supposed to go?

And perhaps most importantly, how was he going to avoid a deadly confrontation with Mara Jade?

Fortunately, there was no sense of urgency about the vision. He knew, somehow, that he could bide his time, waiting for the opportune moment.

If one ever came.

***

It was time to leave; Vader sensed it. There was something driving him to investigate a particular corner of the known galaxy, and he knew precisely what that something was.

Luke Skywalker. The name of the boy he had seen just after striking down old Kenobi; the name of the boy that had connected and tapped into the Force, using only his instincts to obliterate the Death Star.

Skywalker. The name the boy had inherited from him, and all his power, uncontrolled as it was, had been present in Luke Skywalker as the boy had skimmed down the trench in a maneuver that had decided the fate of hundreds of thousands of Imperial men.

Luke Skywalker was, without a hint of doubt, his son. And Obi-Wan had hidden Luke from him.

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Clever, thought Vader, recalling the information he had received pertaining to Luke's residence on Tatooine. _But now the real Kenobi is dead and gone, only a shell existing in his place._

The Emperor had recognized his possible need for another Hand, and didn't wish to take the time to wait for a child to be raised accordingly. The technicians had assured them that even Force-sensitive clones never retained any memory beyond general linguistic and social function and the occasional mathematic skill. If Obi-Wan's clone hadn't fallen into those boundaries it would have been terminated at the first sign, but it had stayed in the limits, safely away from the original.

And that was fortunate; Vader held deep within him a fear of his former Master's reappearance, and had been relieved to have killed the old fool before a new heresy had risen.

Of course, there were still the Rebels. He had no doubts that the ragtag military band would be extinguished in due time. It was actually rather convenient that young Skywalker had signed up with them; now that Vader was receiving a few directional impulses of his son's location, he could effectively find a greater concentration of the Rebellion's leaders in one place.

And so the _Executor_ left Imperial Center, four weeks after the clone's awakening, for the far reaches of the galaxy, with Darth Vader, hundreds of probe droids ready to dispatch, a full crew…and one stowaway.

~~~***~~~

Feedback, as usual, is welcomed with open arms. I and my partner-in-crime, Jandalf, would appreciate it very much.

Jandalf: Mmmmmm…yummies.


	2. Enter the Rebellion

Well, since this seems to be the second chapter, I shall do some shoutouts, as I was actually pleasantly surprised at the number of reviews that have come in for the first chapter alone. Cool!

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Jedi from Rohan: Wassup? And yes, it is sort of scary…I plan to pop in an unexpected and possibly disturbing ending. It is an AU, after all.

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Kynstar: That braid idea…(snicker) Sounds like something my friend Jandalf the Orange would use in one of her spoofs. You should tell her about it.

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Jedi Nifet: Thankees…unfortunately, I don't know Siri's character that well, and besides that, having more than one Old Republic Jedi clone would get…well…messy.

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Princess-Kinky, NathanPostmark, and Maren: Many thankees! I hope you all enjoy…I try.

And now, for your collective entertainment…Chapter the Second.

~~~***~~~

Mara Jade had nearly worked herself into a frantic rage. He had been here, only yesterday, and now she came in just before dawn to find his room empty…

She didn't care in the slightest as to Kenobi's well-being. Mara did, however, care about her own, and she knew full well what displeasing her master would mean.

So when she hesitantly connected with him, wanting to get it over with, she was struck by surprise at the sole order he gave:

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Bring him back, to me. He did not have to send any threats to accentuate the command.

The first problem Mara came across was that she hadn't the slightest idea as to where he had gone. So, strange as it seemed, she sank into a technique that she rarely used, that only worked on occasion.

In her mind, she made herself to be Obi-Wan Kenobi, and began to perceive things from his perspective. She filed through everything she had told him, all the other information he had received that she knew of, and his most probable choice…

Three weeks ago.

__

"Darth Vader's flagship is the Executor,_" she told him. "It's where the most promising officers are put to work, and sometimes death."_

He still wanted to see it.

She laughed at the request and said sardonically, "Maybe you can ask for a tour when Vader's returned from his trip."

"What trip?"

"He's leaving with the Executor _in three weeks…"_

She uttered a vile curse. Surely she should have known better than to tell Kenobi something like that. He was a sponge for information, absorbing anything and everything. The discontent had been plain in his eyes from day one, and he had obeyed her every whim for four weeks.

__

He was biding his time, she realized. _And I didn't see it through his innocent little façade._

There was only one thing for it. Mara Jade would follow the _Executor._

***

He had found something fascinating in the equipment room a couple of weeks ago. Two thumb-sized glimmering crystals, both perfectly cut, one tinted blue and slightly larger than the other. He hadn't known why they had attracted him so, only that he had wiped off the dust and pocketed them at his first opportunity.

No one had noticed. No one had cared. He had kept them, looking at them every night before going to sleep.

But now he didn't dare draw any sort of unusual attention toward himself. He was under cover as a snow trooper in one of the _Executor's _reserves. He had learned enough over the last four weeks, from both Mara Jade and his own inquisitive studying, to disappear among the ranks of troopers. The few who actually saw his face believed the story he made of getting the scar during a training mishap, which wasn't astronomically far from the truth.

He was lying in his bunk, awaiting nearly unattainable sleep, fingering the crystals in his pocket, when everything when completely white. He gasped and his back arched rigidly.

A hallway formed in his mind's eye…the hallway just outside the dormitory. It seemed as if he was floating through the hall rapidly, taking a left turn, entering the turbolift, down four floors, across the hall, taking another turbolift nine levels down, turning right and following the hall down to one of the side shuttle bays…In a rush, the vision took him into one of the shuttles, launched, and punched in a reel of coordinates once free of the Super Star Destroyer.

The string of numbers echoed through his mind as the vision faded. Still gasping, his eased himself back into a relaxed position, eyes wide.

"Hey. You all right?" whispered the man in the bunk next to his.

He gritted his teeth, feigning pain, and nodded. "Just a cramp," he lied in a weary voice, and pretended to stretch his back out before settling down again.

It was only a matter of minutes before the other trooper began softly snoring. Feeling a twinge of envy, Obi-Wan rose silently and dressed, curious at where exactly the vision would take him after he was out in the shuttle. _To Hoth, I suppose?_

He followed the exact pattern through the halls using the same two turbolifts, and came to the shuttle hangar. There were five _Lambda-_class shuttles on the docking bay floor, and to his surprise no one was on patrol.

__

Shift change? he wondered, and softly padded toward the shuttle on the far right. The boarding ramp hissed open upon his approach and he jumped, looking around to search for troopers he hoped weren't there.

But the bay was still empty. Feeling somewhat isolated, he crept up the ramp, into the shuttle.

Fortunately, Mara had taught him first off how to fly a _Lambda_-class, and he reviewed the controls mentally as he sunk into the pilot's seat, and started the warm-up procedure.

It seemed that the shuttle roared to life in the silence. He was seized by a sudden anxiety as he thought of all the ways this could go horribly wrong…but despite his feelings on the matter, he slid the shuttle smoothly forward and shivered with delight at the mere thought of doing something so audacious.

Troopers began flowing out of a door near the end of the docking bay, threatening to fire. They formed a line, blasters bearing on the shuttle—

He swallowed, and gunned the controls. Troopers scattered madly, some diving to the floor as he grazed by less than a meter overhead. Some began to fire, but he was going fast enough to evade their unsteady shots, and punched through into hard vacuum.

He knew they would already have called an alert; he searched and spotted the navicomputer on the control panel, fingers hesitating over the keypad.

Were they the right coordinates? Or would he hammer into a star? Or even worse, would he get hopelessly lost and run out of fuel, food, and air?

But he steeled himself. A worse fate no doubt awaited if he went back. His fingers took on a life of their own as they steadily punched in the reel of numbers…

__

Here goes nothing, he thought, and pulled the lever.

***

Mara came triumphantly out of hyperspace to see the _Executor_ looming before her. She saw there were some small objects launching from the hold at the base of the Star Destroyer; upon scanning she confirmed them to be probe droids. _What's Vader looking for? The Rebels? _she wondered, thankful that the _Executor_ had needed to come to realspace periodically to launch the droids, or she might not have caught up.

Suddenly her sharp eyes caught a ship…more specifically a _Lambda-_class shuttle, launching from a starboard docking bay. Curious, she turned her sensors toward the shuttle…

One life form. She narrowed her eyes, puzzled, and straining, carefully attempted to reach out and brush this mind…it couldn't possibly be Vader…

Mara's breath caught in her throat. _It's him. Kenobi's making a break for it._ Angrily, she slammed her own ship to accelerate madly toward the shuttle; she let slip a vile curse when her quarry rocketed into hyperspace. Her sublight engines might have been better than the shuttle's, but when it came to hyperspace, the match was nearly even.

Focusing intensely on her equipment, she plotted and tracked the vector, narrowing down his approximate coordinates to one system that was a mere lightyear away.

__

Hoth? She frowned. _What does he want with the giant ice cube?_ But she labeled the question irrelevant—all she needed to do was go to Hoth, capture him, and bring his miserable little hide back to the Emperor.

Mara was acting the bounty hunter, except she was fueled differently. Bounty hunters were driven by credits. Mara Jade was driven by rage, and her blazing green eyes reflected the burning fire within as the stars lengthened into strips of light, twisting into the patterns of hyperspace…

***

The shifting light outside his cockpit entranced him. The quiet beauty of the flickering patterns let his mind wander, and one thought in particular brought a shimmering tear to form in the corner of his eye, spilling over and trailing down his face, following the line of his scar. _Anakin always loved watching the lights of hyperspace wash over the cockpit. He would sit in the copilot's seat, especially in the first few years, and ask me what made the light so beautiful. And I told him the light was made beautiful when someone took the time to look at it and fall into wonder…_

He snapped out of his reverie suddenly. Where had that thought come from? Certainly not _his_ memory…

He touched the treasure again, ran through it again, saw a small boy's face lit with the mesmerizing patterns, his blue eyes shining. The boy turned his solemnly fascinated gaze to Obi-Wan and said, _I wish I could keep watching it forever, Master._

I understand, he heard himself softly telling the boy, _but some things must come to an end._

I know, came the enthusiastic response,_ but I'll keep watching it as long as I can, so I can remember it better when it's gone. And maybe it'll still be beautiful even if I'm just remembering it._

Obi-Wan turned with the boy back to the dancing light. _I'm sure it will._

And then the phantom memory faded, and he found himself staring at the copilot's seat where the boy had been sitting. And he thought, _Anakin. Where are you? Where are you now?_

…Who are you?

***

Hoth magnified in his view as he came out of hyperspace. He stared down at the barren-looking planet, and could imagine the swirling snow again, that he had seen in the training room in his mind's eye.

The hanging white sphere looked beautifully pristine, though. He flew closer, entered the atmosphere, and cruised slowly along the line between the day and the night, several hundred feet in the air.

His eyes were trained on the horizon when he heard her, a soft sweet voice laden with concern. _Obi-Wan, please, you must help my son…_

He looked down to the drifting snow below, and descended, searching for he knew not what. He didn't know if he could trust the disembodied voice that rang within his head. Was it something metaphysical, or just one of those new memories?

__

My son…

Then he spotted a lone figure struggling through the snow, far away. He lowered the shuttle, slowing, preparing to land. The lower wings of the _Lambda-_class folded upward, and he eased the craft to a stop a bare ten meters from the person he had seen, who collapsed in the snow.

Hurrying from the shuttle, the howling wind struck him a bitterly cold blow across the face. Despite knowing he was hardly dressed adequately for the severe climate, he plunged into the snow drifts, wallowing up to his knees as the cold gripped his toes.

The biting wind nipped at his cheeks and ears as he waded closer. The figure in the snow, he decided, was a man who looked to be several years older than him. Sprawled on his stomach, the young man looked up at him in confusion, then his blue eyes rolled backwards and his face plunged into the snow.

Obi-Wan stood astonished for a moment, but the below-freezing temperatures quickly snapped him into action. He brought his arms under the other, turning him onto his back and preparing to haul him off the ground.

The sound reached his ears, then. It was possibly one of the oddest noises he had heard yet, sounding like it came from an animal, a throaty _yakkim-yakkim._ He stood up with the young man in his arms, and saw someone approaching mounted on the furry animal he had seen in the vision.

"Luke?" came the rider's confused voice through the howling wind. "Luke? What the hell…" He dismounted hastily and approached Obi-Wan, blaster drawn. "Who're you?"

Obi-Wan shivered violently in the cold, but peered closely at the man's face. "Han?" The word sprang from his lips automatically. _What? I don't know this man…that's likely not even his name…_

But the man reacted, hesitating. "What? Who're you? Answer me," he demanded, "or I'll shoot. You're wearing an Imperial lounge outfit, aren't you?"

"I'm Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan Kenobi. I thought he…Luke…needed help, so I was going to bring him into the shuttle…" Obi-Wan trailed off in confusion as Han pulled off his snow goggles and stared at him in complete bewilderment.

The taun-taun gave one last pathetic gurgle and fell over.

Han glanced over his shoulder, and his scowl deepened. "Well. Go on, take him into the shuttle. I don't know what you're trying to pull on me, kid, but I've got you covered. Don't you try anything."

Obi-Wan nodded and started wallowing back to the shuttle, Han following him suspiciously. Han hesitated just before stepping onto the boarding ramp, but the thought of leaving his unconscious friend at the hands of a possibly Imperial stranger motivated him enough to forgo his personal concerns. Besides, he would be no use to Luke frozen solid, or to anyone else, for that matter…

The shuttle's roomy interior provided a couple of long padded couches facing each other. Obi-Wan carefully laid Luke down on one of them and began peeling off some of his snow-laden outer garments while Han took a seat on the other couch, watching everything at once, but especially the strange youth looking after Luke.

Obi-Wan pulled Luke's gloves and boots off and began working circulation into his ice-cold feet. "I'm only trying to help. You can trust me."

"I don't know about that," Han snarled. "I have a tough time trusting anyone who claims to be a dead man."

"A what?" Then Obi-Wan realized. "I'm not…I mean…I'm a clone," he finished, feeling ridiculous. "I'm not who you think I am."

Han stared at him incredulously. "The Imps cloned him?" The blaster rose again, this time without a waver. "You're conditioned, aren't you? Get away from him," he ordered, standing up.

Obi-Wan slowly backed off, raising his empty hands. "They didn't condition me. I'm not one of them."

Han saw the truth in his eyes, but still held his ground. "The Empire's got their special techniques. You might not even be aware of it, and then you'll come around and give them the signal to swarm in. No, I don't trust you. You're telling the truth, but I _can't_ trust you."

"But what about Luke? He needs attention."

Han shook his head. "There's nothing you can do for him, kid, not more than you've done already. We're staying right here." Then a different light entered his eyes. "Or not. I'm assuming this bucket can still fly."

Obi-Wan nodded uneasily, still staring down the business end of Han's blaster.

"Good. Get into the copilot's seat."

Obi-Wan hesitated, looking back at Luke, who was beginning to stir.

"Go," Han growled. "He'll be fine."

Obi-Wan complied, seeing the anxiety in Han's eyes. He seated himself and watched one of Han's hands fly over the control panel while the other held his blaster. He was amazed at the familiar dexterity Han had, almost as if he had flown one of these before. Han seemed as experienced as Mara Jade. "You've flown a _Lambda-_class before?"

Memory kindled in Han's eyes, and he furrowed his brow. "Yeah…" His blaster was still in his hand, finger poised on the trigger, but it was no longer pointed at Obi-Wan as he recalled his own Imperial past. "Yeah. I've flown a few."

Obi-Wan noticed, with a measure of gratitude, that Han's blaster had never yet been set to kill, only stun.

Luke moaned behind them. "Ben…Ben…please…"

Han quickly moved to cover Obi-Wan. "Not a word. You're an average defector, understand? Everyone's been messed around with as is. We'll deal with this Obi-Wan Kenobi thing later."

"All right. But I'll need an alias, in that case."

Han waved his blaster in irritation. "Make one up yourself. I've run out of ideas over the years. Now you sit right here and act all normal, and don't touch Luke."

Obi-Wan nodded, and sat in obedient silence.

Han moved back to Luke, never taking his attention off Obi-Wan. He sat down beside the head of his friend and ruffled his hair, something he had unconsciously picked up from hanging around Wookiees. "Hey, kid. You awake?"

Luke opened his eyes groggily. "Wha…Han? 'm cold…" He tried to sit up.

Han gently pushed him back down. "Yeah, kid, on account of being on Hoth and all. Relax. We'll get you back real soon, okay?"

"Where are we?" Luke murmured, taking in their surroundings. This time Han let him sit up, and he spotted the teenager sitting in the copilot's seat.

Obi-Wan attempted a smile, wondering how in all the nine hells of Kessel did he know the names of these two men before him…and the name of Luke's father.

__

Father? Of course; the little boy's eyes were just like his.

Luke tensed as he saw the Imperial insignia embroidered on the breast of the stranger's outfit. "What's going on?"

"I defected from the Empire," Obi-Wan announced quietly, "and I'm never going back."

A look of gladness replaced the one of misgiving in Luke's eyes. "Oh. I'm sure everyone will be happy to have you on board. What's your name?"

__

Alias. What's a good alias? One rapidly came to mind and he spoke it without pause. "Orlan Ytho, sir," he said, sensing Luke had a rank in command, by the way he spoke, however uncertainly.

Luke smiled, belying the weariness he felt. "I'm Commander Skywalker, but you can call me Luke. And this is Captain Han Solo."

Obi-Wan inclined his head. "A pleasure. Shall I warm up the ship?"

"Go right ahead," Han told him, "but I'll be flying."

***

The shield was impenetrable for her small craft. She had gone over it as surreptitiously as she possibly could, and found no entrance.

__

My master…I have failed. Mara had arrived just in time to see Kenobi slipping into Hoth's atmosphere, and the shield readings hadn't even flickered. His entrance was a complete mystery to her. _But I have found that Hoth is shielded. There is most likely a Rebel presence here._

Her master fed cold, silent anger to her, and sent, _You will stay in orbit. You will contact Lord Vader and tell him of your findings. Tell him I instruct him to search the planet and to crush any traces of the Rebellion he finds. You will assist him in the invasion and capture Kenobi. YOU WILL NOT FAIL._

Filled with a mortal fear, she activated her communications system, and hailed the _Executor._

***

The shuttle came to a stop a stone's throw away from the blast doors of Echo Base. Inside, indiscriminate confusion prevailed as General Rieekan ordered someone to go wake the Princess, before somebody up and died or something equally drastic…

***

So far, it had been Leia's worst night on Hoth. She could think of nothing but the two men isolated outside for the rest of the night. Artoo's calculation of the odds hadn't helped much, either. And so she had asked Chewbacca if he wanted to move into her room for the night. The idea had comforted the big Wookiee partially, and they had moved an extra bed into her chamber. Now they lay quietly on opposite sides of the room, thinking of anything but sleep.

Leia's eyelids shot open as she heard the knocking on her door. Still fully dressed, she threw the heavy blankets off of her and palmed open the door while Chewie sat up and moaned inquiringly, anxiously.

It was a young recruit she recognized; he'd joined the Rebel forces earlier in the month. "Your Highness," he said, looking disconcerted. "I'm sorry if I woke you, but there appears to be an Imperial shuttle just outside the blast doors with Commander Skywalker and Captain Solo inside—" He watched her race down the hall, Chewbacca in close pursuit. "Your Highness?"

Leia burst into the main control room and demanded, "What's going on?"

General Rieekan turned to face her. "Your Highness. Captain Solo is reporting in from a _Lambda-_class shuttle that he seems to have…acquired." The look on Rieekan's face showed plainly that he hadn't the slightest clue as to _how_ Han had managed to procure the ship.

"Has he found Luke?" she questioned, her dark eyes flashing.

"Yes, Skywalker is with him." Rieekan turned back to a panel and Leia recognized Han's voice emanating from one of the speakers.

"…would be nice for someone to slice us in. The commander isn't looking wonderful."

She came closer. "Han?"

"Leia." He sounded relieved. "Talk some sense into your friends there. They think I can't handle an Imperial visitor all by myself."

"A what? You've got someone with you? What happened?"

"Calm down, all right? Just get someone to open the damned doors and we can sort this all out once we're inside."

Leia frowned. The visitor Han had referred to couldn't possibly be an ambassador. The Imperials had long been finished with their negotiations with the Alliance; if they came knocking, it would be with turbolasers, not an unarmed shuttle…

She interrupted her own line of thought with an order. "Get a slicer to open the doors. And don't tell me they're hacksafe, because that would mean the entire base has been full of sitting ducks every single night."

The general nodded and summoned a subordinate, directing him to get a slicer on the job.

"How did this Imperial get through the shield?" she asked Rieekan, concerned.

He shook his head. "I don't know. But either way, we have to assume we're not safe here any longer."

She stared through the communications panel, hoping that maybe this Imperial had enough stature for them to leave unharmed, as long as they had him at blasterpoint…but she abandoned the thought quickly. Taking a hostage would make them no better than the Imperials, and certainly wouldn't heighten any quietly existing public support. No, he wouldn't be taken hostage…but he certainly would not be sent on his way.

"We also discovered a different presence in the system," the general added. "Also Imperial, as the identification holds, though this ship can't seem to come through the shield as the first did."

The slicer started overriding the lockdown, working so fast with the computers that Leia tried to amuse herself with the thought that the keypads might soon start aflame.

It was only a few minutes before he called, "Got it! Pull the controls."

"Open the doors," Rieekan directed.

***

As soon as he saw the blast doors gradually sliding open, Han fired up the engines again. He would have left the shuttle outside if Echo Base hadn't so desperately needed to be hidden.

Some deck crew members scurried to clear an area for the approaching shuttle while a few officers drew their blasters to cover the boarding ramp.

The shuttle came to a stop and Han walked out, pushing Obi-Wan in front of him.

Leia rushed forward despite protestations from General Rieekan. "Where's Luke?"

Han jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "He wasn't looking too good. I told him to stay inside and wait for the medics."

Obi-Wan fixated his gaze on the Princess. There was something familiar about her, a connection made that he knew he shouldn't have been feeling.

Leia saw him staring at her and snapped, "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

He bowed quickly. "Forgive me, your Highness. I am Orlan Ytho, and I came to join the Alliance."

She looked him over critically. "Welcome, then. You'll excuse us, of course, but we can't afford to take the slightest chance."

He nodded. "I understand."

Leia gestured to him and the shuttle. "Scan him and his shuttle over, and take him to Inauguration." She smiled at his dubious expression. "Don't worry, it's much less painful than it sounds. You'll be asked a few questions, your identity will be checked, and it'll all be over. That's usually all it takes."

Obi-Wan nodded, then his breath caught in his throat. _Identity check?_ "Er…I didn't bring my ID badge along. Is that a problem?" he asked, concerned.

"No. There'll be a DNA check." Leia nodded at him. "We'll be glad to have you along, Orlan."

He bowed once more, then stiffly walked away from the boarding ramp under the careful watch of at least a dozen officers with blasters. _A DNA check? If they find out who my original was…is that good, or bad? These are enemies of the Empire, so I suppose a traitor to the Empire is an ally to them._ But he still felt uneasy.

Han directed the medics into the shuttle. "He's resting on the couches inside." Watching them go, he sauntered down the boarding ramp and grinned down at Leia. "Well, your Worship, I managed to give you a good-bye present before I go."

"Recruitment is hardly your style," she said indifferently. "Besides, I'm sure anyone would object to being labeled a 'present'."

"Only in the best sense of the word," he teased. "He seems like a nice enough kid."

"Nicer than you, I hope," she countered, stalking away.

Slightly baffled, Han watched her go. She had been getting sharper these past few months, especially with him. He wondered if Luke had told her about his previous comment: _"Wonderful girl! Either I'm going to shoot her, or I'm beginning to like her!"_

__

No, he thought wryly. _That's hardly Luke's "style"._

In the best sense of the word.

***

Obi-Wan waited apprehensively with two technicians and a couple of officers while his DNA sample was being checked over.

One of the technicians frowned. "Strange. There's no Orlan Ytho on the Imperial databanks."

Obi-Wan saw one of the officers' hands moving over his blaster, and kept his face carefully neutral, adding a hint of surprise.

The technician began a matching search, and it wasn't long before his eyebrows rose in elaborate puzzlement. "What? It's a positive match with General Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The first officer, a lieutenant, shifted his stance to peer at the screen. "But that's impossible."

__

Oh, well, thought Obi-Wan. _I suppose it's too late now to feign any shock or ignorance. _"I'm a clone," he said quietly. "The Imperials found a hair on the general's robe just after he died."

The other technician frowned, an expression that seemed to be common among these two. "Why would they take a mere hair if they could procure a blood or skin cell sample?"

Obi-Wan blinked. "I—I don't know. I'm not a scientist."

The first technician sighed. "Right. It's off to the psychiatrist with you."

"I'm not conditioned," he protested.

The technician gave him a steely look. "We don't know that. Mysteries are made to be worked out, especially of this kind."

Obi-Wan knew he didn't have the same look on mysteries, but then he supposed that sort of perspective would make anyone a scientist, and soberly allowed himself to be led off by the officers.

***

He had already been treated with pokings, proddings, and bacta; the medical droids had commented that it would have been far worse if he would have been exposed to the frigid temperatures for the entire night, although he probably still would have survived if he would have found shelter of some sort. The scar underneath his eye from the wampa had already healed marvelously.

But Luke was already sick of the taste of bacta on his breath, and walked down the halls, purposefully _away_ from the med center. He had heard that the new recruit that had rescued him had run into a bit of trouble with the technicians, and had been taken to the base's psychiatrist. Reve Hadan specialized in treating the people that had been mentally stricken by war, and was gifted with a wide range of species, but his skills were not limited to that.

An aide answered the door and gestured him in, asking him in a soft voice to remain quiet.

Luke nodded. Extreme care had to be taken; the mind was a fragile thing to tamper with. He followed the aide up to a pane of transparisteel that allowed him to look into the next room.

Hadan's mouth moved, though no sounds came through the clear barrier or the door leading into the treatment room. The young man's prone form lay still on the lounge couch, his eyes closed.

"He's being looked over in a relatively shallow state of hypnosis," the aide explained to the commander quietly.

Luke stared into the room, fascinated with what he saw. Orlan Ytho lay in an utter state of peace; he might have been mistaken for dead if not for the slow rising and falling of his chest.

Young Orlan's hand suddenly twitched. Doctor Hadan saw this and uttered what Luke thought to be calming words, but the youth was beyond their effect…

His head rolled to the side, and azure eyes opened to clearly stare into Luke, who could not tear his gaze away. _Luke. You will go to Dagobah. There you will learn from Yoda, the Jedi Master who instructed me._ The gentle voice echoed through his mind…Ben's voice.

Luke gaped. "Ben?"

The youth's head rolled back, his eyes closing. Hadan looked confused, but continued regardless.

"Sir?" ventured the aide. "Are you all right?"

Luke blinked, remembering the message. _Dagobah?_

"Sir? Perhaps you should return to the ward—"

"No," Luke said quickly, "I'm fine…do you mind if I wait here for him to come out?"

"Not at all, sir." The aide looked slightly perturbed. "If you're sure you don't need anything."

"No, thanks…I just want to wait." He sat in one of the chairs to illustrate his point, but he kept gazing through the thick clear pane, hearing an echo of Ben's voice in his mind.

So that was what he had been hearing during the battle for Yavin. He had supposed it was a command from the Force, but from Ben himself…

His attention was entwined within his thoughts so much that he hardly paid any notice to the door sliding open and Doctor Hadan coming out with weary steps.

"Strange lad," the doctor said, "but I can't see any evidence of conditioning. We are fortunate to have come across such a one, I suppose."

Luke snapped his eyes to Hadan, and stood. "So he's all right, then?"

"That he is—I just told him to relax a bit. He's perfectly all right, Commander. But I do want to see him a few more times; I noticed some things that may hint at some future instability."

"Can I talk to him?" asked Luke, and grinned. "I promise not to mess him up too much."

Hadan smiled back. "I'm sure you'd be the best friend for him, right now."

Luke felt an implication in the doctor's words, but ignored it and softly walked inside the room.

***

Obi-Wan rolled off the lounger to face the young commander, looking at him a little dubiously. "Sir…am I any shorter?"

"What?"

"They said I was going in here to 'get shrunk'. I'm not sure what they meant by that."

Luke might have laughed if he hadn't have been silenced by a sudden awareness of the youth's lack of exposure. That was something that might have been expected from a child, not someone nearing adulthood. "Sometimes people refer to psychiatrists as 'shrinks', that's all."

"Oh." Obi-Wan relaxed, but stared into Luke. "You're wondering why I didn't know that, aren't you?"

Luke nodded, suddenly a little uncomfortable.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I've only really been awake for a month, sir. I'm a clone…I suppose you hadn't been told yet."

"That explains," said Luke.

The youth's intensity heightened, if at all possible, his blue eyes shimmering with curiousity, seeking answers. "Did you know Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Luke's heart lifted. He was surprised, of course, that someone so young might claim to know the old Jedi, but still… "Yes—I did. Why do you ask?"

"He is my original." Obi-Wan's eyebrows lifted quizzically. "I was hoping someone could tell me about him, so I might know where I came from."

"You," murmured Luke after a sudden silence. "You gave me the message."

But the young duplicate only blinked, puzzled. "What message?"

"I was told to go to Dagobah, to see a…" Luke frowned. "A Master Yoda. Don't you remember telling me that?"

"I was under hypnosis, apparently." Obi-Wan smiled helplessly. "I don't really know what's going on. There have been memories surfacing that I've never experienced, and I hoped that if you knew him, you could tell me about them."

Luke's discomfort returned, full force. "I didn't know him for very long. Only a day or so. He never even told me that much, just started to train me."

The pools of blue before him softened, deepened. "You must not focus on your anxiety, Luke. Keep yourself centered in the present moment. Your training will be complete enough, given time and proper instruction." Then young Obi-Wan shuddered, his eyes rolling back, and his legs gave out.

Luke was just in time to catch him, to keep him from collapsing on the floor. "Doctor Hadan!" he shouted through the open door. "Where's the doctor?"

~~~***~~~

I'm so evil with my cliffies, aren't I? Although this one isn't quite as cliffie-like as the others.

The next update might be a while in coming, as my life is too busy for me to _have_ a life. But I will post as soon as I get another 9+ pages. (^^)


	3. Cast Away

(magical-sounding poof) Oh, look! The much-anticipated third chapter!

Well, by me, at any rate.

Shoutouts:

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Elf with a lightsaber: Yay, cliffies! I have no clue in the slightest as to how long this thing's going to be.

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kyer: Happy feelings for you. I'll do my best without making it too cheesy.

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NathanPostmark and Freakazoid: Thanks again to both of you! People like you make this worthwhile, as do all my other reviewers…you guys are awesome.

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Jedi Nifet: Hmm…maybe_ you _should do a fic on Siri's ghost and Obi's clone. I'd like to see that…just don't make it too much like mine…(lol)

And now for the Third Chapter.

~~~***~~~

A lightyear above Hoth's frigid troposphere, a giant swallowed a shadowmoth.

Mara Jade eased her small ship into the gaping main docking bay of the _Executor_, still unable to get a clear understanding of Vader's reaction to the news. She'd had some time to think about it as the Super Star Destroyer came to the system to solve this mystery…in this case, like so many others, "solving the mystery" would undoubtedly mean destroying the planetary shield, finding the faction that dared erect it, raze the area from orbit, and kill everyone left after a prolonged period of torture with (if they were the Rebels or anyone else interesting enough) a lot of aggressive questioning.

Everyone…except Kenobi. That was why she was here, after all; if Darth Vader had any complaints about that, she would tell him to redirect them to his master.

With a due amount of grudging respect, of course. He had a substantially better grasp of the Force than she did (literally), and battalions of stormtroopers to back it up.

It was no surprise to her that some of these stormtroopers were present to greet her as she hovered inside and shut down her engines. The lack of any certain Sith lords presented no consternation, either.

Her movements were placid enough when she came onto the deck floor and marched off with the company, though the blaze in her eyes was never extinguished…not even for her master at times.

Mara was led straight to the enormous bridge. On either side of the center walkway, officers, pilots and technicians worked busily at computers in sunken sections. A man she recognized, the pretentious fool Admiral Ozzel, strutted about with his hands clasped at the small of his back, supervising the crews with sweeps of his gaze. To her satisfaction, he was coming around at a point that he had to stop as the company of troopers marched by, saluting.

Mara Jade, however, raised no hand, but stared mordantly at him with a pair of malachite daggers for the barest second as she came by, obviously the centerpoint in more than a circle of stormtroopers.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, having successfully received a portion of her trenchant distaste, and passed on with noticeably quieter steps. 

Darth Vader stood at the head of the platform, looking out to the cold expanse beyond. Only when the stormtroopers came to an abrupt halt within two meters of him did he turn to see her. A wave of his gloved hand swept the troopers away like unnaturally ordered leaves blowing about in autumn. Mara Jade thought it a more interesting comparison than just retreat; the thought passed from her mind quickly as she felt him focus on her.

As was usual, he didn't bother wasting time with trivial pleasantries, one trait Mara appreciated. "You told of a planetary shield above Hoth. Did you analyze its strength?"

"It's too strong to penetrate with lasers or a missile barrage, but troop carriers should be able to come through, provided it's weakened with some fire first."

As he digested this information, she wondered what was going on behind that mask, if the hidden eyes had taken on a glazed look in their privacy. "Very well," he said, the mechanical voice carrying across a forbidding resonance. "Hoth will be looked after."

"Not before I take care of my own business."

Anger flared up in Vader then, but he controlled it. This disdainful Hand might have been rubbing him the wrong way, but she answered to his master alone, same as he. He knew who she was after; very well, let her have Kenobi. He would see about claiming someone else while they were down there.

The Emperor's Hand and the lord of the Sith were two of a kind in more ways than one, which might have sparked the extreme distaste between them. Driven by cold logic and an undercurrent of heated anger, they would stretch as far as their leashes allowed them, turning up every rock in their path. Sometimes Mara wondered whose leash was longer. The first answer would undoubtedly be Vader's, of course…but then, she covertly slipped in and out of places that the media would have had a field day with had it have been Darth Vader. Mara had already accomplished many things for the Empire that no one would ever run the risk of recording, as she virtually didn't exist…and so the question remained.

But for now, they were forced to put expressed animosity aside. Something needed to be carried out that could not go underway with petty squabbling; both Vader and Mara Jade considered themselves above trivial disagreements. There was a greater glory to achieve than triumph at word contests.

After all, one could not afford to slip or wander off center; it remained a dark and deadly game. Mara Jade only wondered if Kenobi had realized that.

***

Sparkling blue eyes. _Fate has taken hold of you. It _was_ never meant to be…but _now_ it is._

We think you know what needs to be done.

The world whirled turbulently beneath him; he gasped and tightly gripped someone's sleeve that lay under his hand. "K-Korhi…"

"What?" The quiet but puzzled voice worked its way into his perception. The light above cast a golden glow around Luke's hair as blue eyes looked down at him.

Obi-Wan relaxed his death-hold on Luke's sleeve, recognizing the triggered memory. "I…It's…just someone I used to know…" He shuddered, feeling his forehead cool incrementally as beads of sweat evaporated.

Doctor Hadan appeared above him on the other side, and sponged off his brow. "Relax. It's the best thing for stress. Would you like to tell me what you've been experiencing?"

He found the doctor's voice soothing, and let his tightened muscles ease as he released Luke's sleeve. "I had a dream, and…and I know."

Hadan smiled at the expression of astonishment that dawned upon the youth's face. "What do you know? Is it related to your dream?"

"Yes…no…I don't know. Perhaps. My dream was recurring…at least, I think it was…" Obi-Wan frowned. "No. I've never had it before. But he did. My original," he explained before Hadan could ask. "I've been receiving a…an influx of memories from him. I know him, now, and I suppose…well, I suppose he's _me_."

Luke couldn't help the smile that tugged at his mouth from the familiar phrase. Old Ben had said a little while and so long ago, "_Of course, of course I know him…he's me."_

Hadan's expression was nothing if not peculiar. "So you have inherited memory from your original?"

"Yes…some. There's pieces that don't fit together…" Obi-Wan frowned again. "But at least I know who I am, now. To a certain extent."

That he was changing was plain enough to the two at his bedside; his vocabulary was starting to reflect it a little, at any rate.

Hadan smiled then. "Well, this is certainly a strange turn of events. I suppose I no longer have the privilege of calling you 'young Obi-Wan', then?"

"I suppose not," murmured Obi-Wan. "Though to be frank, I wouldn't mind."

The doctor nodded amiably. "I would stay, but I must see after packing up in my office. If you need anything, call me over." He looked up at Luke, who nodded in return, then briskly walked out of the room.

"Evacuation?" asked Obi-Wan, knowing that was likely why the doctor was wanting to pack, and in a hurry.

Luke nodded, a look of concern rising. "We're afraid the Imperials have been alerted to our whereabouts, no doubt from that other Imperial ship that was in orbit."

"There was another ship?" he asked, wondering if he had led someone here.

"A small personal ship, sort of halfway between a yacht and a fighter." Luke shrugged. "Don't worry about it. They would have found us sooner or later, anyway."

"I know who it is. I led her here…" He looked up into Luke's face in alarm. "She's going to tell him."

"Who?"

"She's going to tell the Emperor we're here. She's after me, but…" he trailed off miserably. "Vader might come, as well."

"I said not to worry about it." Luke allowed him to sit up. "We'll deal with it when it comes. Are you any good in a…never mind," he said sheepishly. "I guess you know your stuff."

Obi-Wan's hand instinctively moved to his belt. "Oh…I can use a blaster, but I'd much prefer a lightsaber." Then he remembered the crystals, and reached into the small pouch attached to his belt, pulling them out.

Luke's eyes were drawn to the faceted blue stones. "Where'd you get those? Lightsaber crystals are extremely rare."

"Yes, they were even before the Purges. I found them in a weapons room in the Imperial Palace. I was given permission to take what I wanted, and when I saw them, I pocketed them without really knowing what they were." He paused, fingering the crystals. They caught the light, bending and scattering rays across his palm, sending out shimmering patterns that reflected faintly on the walls. "Do you still have your lightsaber?"

"Yeah, I do." Luke unhooked it from his belt, marveling at the memory that had been installed into this youth's mind from a different life. "The one you gave me." He lay it down on the bedside.

Obi-Wan ran his fingers across the hilt, and picked it up to study it. His distorted reflection stared back at him in the immaculately polished surface. Even though Luke wasn't very adept with the blade yet, he kept it in good condition.

He smiled. "This was your father's last lightsaber. He was very proud of it; even though he had been young when he made it, it had the quality of a Master's. It still has."

"How do you know that?"

"Shake it," said Obi-Wan, handing it to Luke, who did so. Obi-Wan smiled. "If nothing rattles, that's a good sign."

Luke grinned back.

"Well, well," came a familiar voice from the doorway. "Welcome back to the land of the living, you two."

Chewbacca yarned a question as he followed Han in, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the lintel.

Obi-Wan smiled. "I'm fine, thank you."

The Wookiee whuffled in surprise; he hadn't expected the young man lying on the bed to understand him.

Han shot a glance to Obi-Wan, who merely shrugged in response. "It's too late, General. Everyone knows."

"Knows what?" asked Luke.

"That he's the clone of old Kenobi," Han answered before Obi-Wan could. "I suppose the secret was let out as soon as you got to the DNA testing, huh?"

Obi-Wan handed the lightsaber back to Luke. "It was bound to emerge at some point."

Han suddenly rounded on Leia, who was just entering the door. "Well, looks like you managed to keep me around a little while longer, your Highness."

She raised her eyebrows in exasperation. She had come to check on Luke and the new recruit, not exchange heated words with Han. But if he wanted to play that game again… "General Rieekan thinks it's dangerous for any ships to exit the system until we've confirmed there's no Imperial presence."

"A good story," he said, grinning. "I just think you can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight."

Obi-Wan blinked. That was one thing he hadn't seen coming. Han and Leia appeared oblivious to their surroundings, eyes boring into one another.

Leia shook her head and smiled evenly. "I don't know where you get your delusions, laser brain."

Amused, Chewbacca tilted his head back a little and quietly guffawed, a distinctly Wookiee sound.

Han seemed to be half annoyed, half enjoying himself, and said smoothly, "Laugh it up, fuzzball. But," he added, crossing to stand beside Leia, "you didn't see us alone in the south passage."

Luke looked in wonder to Leia, whose defenses instantly began to rise along with her color.

"She expressed her true feelings for me," Han finished smugly, wisely pacing back to Chewie.

Her eyes widened in incredulous fury. "Why, you stuck-up…half-witted…scruffy-looking nerf herder!"

Han tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow; both Luke and Obi-Wan could see he'd been expecting some sort of outburst. "Who's scruffy-looking?" He sat down on the foot of the bed, his eyes grinning at Luke. "I must have hit her pretty close to the mark to get her all riled up like that, huh, kid?"

Leia's heated temper washed away and her voice returned, even and cool as she nodded. "Well, I guess you don't know everything about women yet."

Obi-Wan immediately sensed her intentions as she took a step forward, and his eyes widened ever so slightly. _Oh, no…she doesn't know…not Luke…_ He gave a gentle, imperceptible suggestion. _Don't kiss Luke. You feel more of a fraternal bond toward him… _Please_ don't kiss Luke…_

She brushed past Luke, and he sighed in relief…then his breath came in suddenly as her lips unexpectedly locked on his. Evidently he'd forgotten who the alternate option was in this room.

Obi-Wan's eyes were wide open now, and past her head he saw Han's jaw drop. Luke and Chewie were emanating almost as much shock. He sensed the flavor of indignity from both Han and Luke, though Chewie was more amused than anything.

Leia left the room looking as unruffled as she had come, leaving the four behind in dumbstruck silence.

The muffled voice of an announcer came over the loudspeaker: "Headquarters personnel, report to command center." The faint blaring of an alarm could be heard past the door.

Han stared down at Obi-Wan and suggested with a less-than-satisfied look on his face, "Take it easy." He strode out of the room; Obi-Wan might have enjoyed the bizarre look on his face if it had been another time…and Obi-Wan a different person.

Luke rose an eyebrow when Han and Chewbacca had left. "Well, that was…interesting."

"I don't suppose anyone's told her who I am, yet." _Or who you two are._

Luke smiled widely, forgetting his twinge of envy for a moment. "No, I don't think so."

***

The small screen gave off the occasional gentle flicker, betraying the transmission's lowered quality as it fed into one of hundreds of computers on the _Executor._

Vader slowly paced down the wide bridge, purposefully ignoring the Emperor's Hand that stood by herself near the front; he didn't need the Force to know she was staring into his back as if she was trying to rip it apart. But if she ever tried, she wouldn't get the usual gore, just a bunch of machinery…the thought both entertained and disgusted him, and he had to pull himself out of the small distraction back into his state of meditative focus.

His sensitive hearing picked one conversation over the nearly inaudible murmur of the bridge: "Admiral." It was Captain Piett's voice.

"Yes, Captain?" Ozzel's attention shifted to his subordinate immediately.

Piett responded quietly; Vader barely discerned his words. "I think we've got something, sir. The report is only a fragment from a probe droid in the Hoth system, but it's the best confirmation we've had of the Hand's account."

Ozzel's voice took on an irritated tone. "We have thousands of probe droids searching the galaxy, and there is no way to determine that this is indeed the Rebel base. I want proof, not leads!"

"The visuals indicate life readings," Piett persisted.

Ozzel scowled. "It could mean anything. If we followed every lead…"

Piett was adamant, it seemed. "But sir, the Hoth system is supposed to be devoid of human forms."

Vader's interest had been aroused, and he made his way to the disputing pair. "You found something?"

"Yes, my lord." Piett appeared relieved that the decision had been taken out of Ozzel's hands, but if he was to be proven wrong about his inkling…

Vader studied the image, and he automatically touched that wave in the Force that had been sent out. The beacon was his son, and with his son was the main Alliance group. "That's it. The Rebels are there."

Ozzel adopted a carefully reasoning expression, one he'd had to wear more and more frequently as he had gotten promoted. "My lord, there are so many uncharted settlements. It could be smugglers, it could be…"

Vader rounded on him mercilessly. "That is the base. And I'm sure Skywalker is with them. Set your course for the Hoth system. General Veers, prepare your men."

The _Executor_ was underway.

***

She smiled as her finger traced one of the starlines that trailed outside, the tip of her fingernail lightly caressing the transparisteel that reflected her malicious expression as she imagined the strand of light to be a crimson line upon even skin.

Her hand moved in front of her and she brought her fingers around the snow-whitened planet that loomed ever closer in her view. Vader would flush the Rebels out, and Kenobi, like a wré-fish, would be swiped from the stream with the claws of a Dantooinian sabercat, with which he had already been scratched.

The readings on the computer betrayed the flickering of the shield, which was beginning to bear heavy bombardment, splashes of green energy taking a toll on the planet-based system.

Mara mentally measured the time between flickers; she _could_ get in early if she did this right…though it would be incredibly risky. If her timing was wrong, Kenobi would be the least of her worries.

But she ignored the instantaneous dissection that awaited should she miscalculate. There was the fact that if she got through early, it would be far easier to apprehend Kenobi and carry him off; she focused on that instead.

Her master would be pleased.

The computer's screen blinked on…off-on…off-on…

She gunned the engines.

Off-on.

The shields were behind her as her craft shuddered under the pressure of atmospheric entry…as she shuddered with a surge of exhilaration, something she rarely savored. 

***

He walked to the side of the blast door, and looked outside.

He left confusion behind; officers raced around in preparation, pilots donned their gear and checked over the snowspeeders with mechanics, Han's sense escalated into panic as his words echoed from the other end of the bay: "Off…Turn it off!"

It was another while before the Force-signature that was Luke ran up, intent on boarding his snowspeeder.

Obi-Wan turned from his self-posting at the blast doors to send his gaze and a message to Luke.

The young commander looked around in distraction, and finally spotted the clone that housed his mentor standing by the blast doors.

Obi-Wan smiled. _May the Force be with you, Luke._

Luke grinned back at him and waved; he didn't yet have enough control of his talents to send the message back any other way, but it was good enough for Obi-Wan.

He had other things to think on at the moment, anyway…

She was coming for him. He could feel her coming through the shield, mind buzzing with calculations and cold logic.

And then there was that heated undercurrent, the molten metal tearing away at more as it hurtled through the core of her existence. It would always be that way, no matter what happened to her.

He lowered his eyes to the dazzling snow as the first speeder exited the bay; the reflected light blinded him for an instant.

***

Mara blinked rapidly to stagger the bursts of light as the ship descended to a mere one hundred meters; the light sparkled as it bounded off the snow into her eyes, dazzling her perception. Unlike adjusting to the dark, the rebounding sunlight was something that a human pair of eyes would never quite get used to. The light pierced her eyelids as she blinked, traveling through blood vessels to finally reach her shrunken pupils, making her see red until she opened her eyes again.

The computer notified her of the proximity of the Rebel Base. She acknowledged the information with the punch of a button, and surveyed the land for the base, eyes narrowed to slits.

It came suddenly, startling her with a calmness she'd never yet known from him: _I'm right here._

The free-standing disks of the Rebels' main power generator appeared over the next cliff. She smiled grimly and set down her ship. This was one of the few occasions she donned a white outfit, and one of the many where between it and the black jumpsuit underneath lay all sorts of interesting toys.

***

He felt more than saw her approach. Her little ship was cleverly cloaked from the probing technology, but not from his prying senses.

Far away, the snow shifted. He squinted against the glaring light, focusing with the aid of the Force to lengthen and clarify his vision.

The snow there now looked to be nearly flawless, until a small strand of red slipped into view, and was quickly tucked away.

Obi-Wan walked outside.

***

She was closing in on the base now; it was less than ninety meters away, she guessed. The white outfit she wore reflected her body heat back into her, serving both as effective outerwear against the cold and as a mask for any infrared readings. A black fabric with the same quality was over her face, holes cut for the eyes.

Keeping herself behind an outcropping of snow-blasted rocks, she brought up a tiny pair of macrobinoculars as she saw a dark speck walking her way from the gaping blast doors.

It was Kenobi; she'd already arrived at that guess, but wanted to make sure. And he was coming for her? Strange, to be sure, if that was the case…

Mara waited behind the rock. She was not about to march into the Rebel Base and demand to know the whereabouts of one man; she was skilled, but no one would survive in the ensuing firefight. Not alone.

***

There was very little wind today, and for that he was glad. All the outerwear he had on was a pair of insulating trousers, one of the typical brown parkas that most other members of Echo Base used, a pair of gloves, and a thick scarf around his neck.

A little frigid breeze brought his quickly condensing breath up against his face, forming small ice crystals on his eyelashes and eyebrows.

Obi-Wan sensed her waiting just behind the small mound of rocks rising from the surface with the mindset of a predator. He didn't hesitate, only kept plodding on through the snow. In some places it was soft and he had to wallow awkwardly; in others the surface was hard-packed and he could tread lightly on top.

He made his path in a wide arc, so he wouldn't approach blindly, even though his senses were attuned. With someone like Mara, he didn't want to leave himself to chance. He mentally reviewed her most common movements against him in his sparring lessons, remembering the techniques she favored. In that sense he had the upper hand; she would be going against an unknown enemy, one who had also had considerably more extensive Force training as well. But she had the advantage when it came to strength and endurance; he hadn't yet had enough time to build himself up to his former physical condition yet.

***

Mara looked out again, and cursed softly to herself. He'd disappeared, which proved he was coming out to her, all right. The intense light made it difficult to see where his footprints were; there was too little contrast, even using the macrobinoculars.

She positioned herself, back against the rock, waiting, senses on full alert. She closed her eyes, tried to probe the area…

"Hello, Mara."

Her eyes snapped open at the same instant that she leveled her small hold-out blaster at Kenobi's head.

He smiled easily, quietly. "I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble; there was just something I needed to look after."

"Something you would have risked your life for?" Despite the fabric covering her face, the words came out clear and cold as the air into which they entered.

"Yes. But instead of losing my life, I gained it."

Mara stared at him, into his eyes that seemed to have a new depth to them. This boy suddenly carried himself with the weight of experience and wisdom of someone four times his age. "They said it couldn't happen."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Only because they never saw it happen. Now we know better."

She rose an eyebrow, and fired.

One brown-gloved hand rose and the blue stun beam suddenly dissipated in front of him. "I'm not leaving here. Not yet."

Her eyes narrowed and she switched to the kill setting, aiming for his leg—but her blaster suddenly tore itself from her grasp and reoriented itself to fit neatly into Kenobi's palm.

He switched it back to stun. "It may be difficult for you, Mara, but please answer me. Why do you serve the Emperor?"

"There's never been a 'why'," she answered coolly, her right hand inching toward her belt.

But Kenobi shook his head again and twitched the blaster. "Up," he directed. "And answer me."

She stood, her empty hands raised, and finished, "There's only ever been a 'how'."

"A textbook Imperial answer." He sighed. "I didn't ask why the _Empire_ serves the Emperor. I asked why _you_ do. There's a distinction there."

"He knows where to put me to achieve results."

"And what do those results serve to do? Do you find any real satisfaction in them, in increasing the glory of the Empire?" His blue eyes were wide, despite the glaring light. "I'm honestly curious."

Somehow she didn't think of not answering. "He gives me satisfaction." Her green eyes pierced into him. "Why do you care?"

"Because I can." His blue eyes matched her intensity. He relaxed his shoulders and let the gun down. "Your answer explains a lot to me. Your personality is extremely independent, but within you have to cling to your master's satisfaction or nothing means anything for you."

He was uncomfortably close to the mark, and it was the closest she'd let him get. Mara's foot lashed out suddenly and she narrowly missed hitting Obi-Wan's temple as he ducked, but no Force-user could come back up in time to block the punch that connected with his tightened abdomen.

"You shouldn't have let down your guard, fool," she reprimanded, almost playfully.

He fell back into the snow, gasping for air, and brought up the gun. His finger was on the trigger when she lashed out again, sending the hold-out blaster flying away to burrow itself out of sight. His physical condition was still poor, but he managed an entangling scissor kick that made her stumble, giving him enough time to jump up and ready himself.

She was anything but bent on playing fair, and drew a knife, holding it ready.

Obi-Wan had discovered a patch of hardened snow and stood on the crust with light feet, ready to move at any moment, reaching out to anticipate her every move, and thought,_ Wouldn't it be nice to have a lightsaber._

The outcropping of rock they were fighting behind effectively hid them from the view of the snowspeeder pilots exiting the blast doors. There was another battle going on at a grander scale, but for now the movements of Mara Jade and his own were all Obi-Wan knew.

The pair sparred for what seemed an eternity; sweat was pouring down Obi-Wan's face but he knew better than to remove his outerwear. He fought with a harnessed ferocity Mara hadn't often seen in the most skilled combatants she had come up against in her years of service, and she knew he hadn't been lying about receiving his original's memory. He knocked the knife away and kept her too busy to retrieve it or grab another; she was forced to create new patterns, to try and distract him, to try to lay him flat again so she could strike…it was difficult.

Kenobi's eyes were taking on a glazed look as he tapped deeper and deeper into the Force to compensate for his own lack of strength, and his concentration was starting to ebb. He brought out his fist up toward her face but she wrapped her hand around his wrist and twisted.

A grunt of pain was all she got as she positioned herself and pushed down on his elbow, still holding his wrist, threatening to break his arm and efficiently forcing him to the ground.

Wisely, he relaxed; struggling would only bring more pain. He turned his head to the side just before he hit the ground, not wishing to inhale snow, which was already coming down his collar.

Mara saw his eyes close as she removed the pair of stun cuffs from her belt…and gasped in surprise as the ground sank under her.

No, it wasn't sinking…she was rising. She was _flying,_ up and backwards, and falling…

The impact winded her, though she was fortunate to have only landed on snow and not one of the scattered rocks that speckled the barren landscape.

Kenobi slowly rose to his feet and tottered over to where he thought the hold-out blaster lay. His right arm ached around the wrist and elbow and he mentally scolded himself for not foreseeing the move. She had almost had him; he was relieved that he'd had enough concentration to summon a burst of power.

But now, he barely had the energy to stagger over to where she lay, glassy-eyed and gasping for air. "Mara…roles are being reversed every day. You're welcome to come with me, if you want…"

She cursed in a faint voice. "You'd like that…wouldn't you…"

"Yes…I would because you have many skills, and you could put them to better use…I can finish your training." He was beginning to catch his breath, something she was still working at. The blow that had borne her into the air had taken more out of her than her fall.

"Come, Mara…we might be on the run, but it's still a better life."

Wanting to conserve her breath, she directed the most obscene gesture she could think of toward him.

Kenobi's voice sounded heavy. "Have it your way, then…but know my offer still remains." He began making his way back to the base.

She fell back into the place she knew so well. _Master…it didn't work. I need your guidance._

But no answer was forthcoming.

Mara pressed again, harder this time. _Master._

The void threatened to swallow her…minutes passed by quickly, but it was taking too long…

__

Master…MASTER!

He had abandoned her. Her master had left her, cast her aside, discarded her. She knew he had now seen her as a wasteful investment; if she couldn't accomplish her goal, she was useless.

Mara was surprised she had enough breath in her for the sheer volume of the howl of rage that rattled her throat, and knew she had spent it all when the darkness enveloped her.

***

Obi-Wan's sight was beginning to be composed of little undefined green dots that moved whenever his eyes did and swam around his field of vision, disorienting him. He stumbled through the still-open blast doors, and heard the faint grumblings of a Wookiee.

"Chewbacca?" he said, then realizing it was too quiet, shouted as loud as he could, "Chewbacca!"

The Wookiee turned to see Obi-Wan collapse on the deck floor; he sprinted forward and gathered up the relatively small frame in his furred arms, moaning worriedly. Then Chewbacca remembered: Han and Leia were going to be here any second. He trotted back to the boarding ramp of the _Millennium Falcon_, which sat waiting for her captain to return.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and wearily looked up into Chewbacca's face. "Mara…have to get Mara…" Then the blue orbs rolled back and he went limp.

Chewie grunted in confusion. Who was Mara?

Then his ears picked up what a human's might not have. Someone outside screamed.

The Wookiee was torn. Han was going to be here any second, but he couldn't simply leave someone to die if he knew they were there…maybe if he could wake Obi-Wan up enough for him to tell Han where Chewie had gone, it would be all right.

Chewbacca laid Obi-Wan down on the boarding ramp and moaned at him loudly, telling him to wake up. He patted Obi-Wan's face, tugged at his arm…and finally, the youth groaned and opened his eyes.

The Wookiee explained clearly that he was going to get the person outside and that Obi-Wan should tell Han he would be back soon.

Obi-Wan slowly came to full coherence. "All right…I'll stay awake."

Relieved, Chewbacca ran off into the snow.

He had only been gone half a minute when Han and Leia ran into the bay, stopping short at the sight of Obi-Wan stretched out on the boarding ramp, with no sign of Chewie.

"What the hell's going on?" Han snapped.

Still groggy, Obi-Wan focused on the irate captain. "He's gone to get Mara…don't worry, he'll be right back."

"Wonderful," Han snarled, and turned to Leia as he quickly headed up the ramp "I'm warming up the ship. See what you and Goldenrod can do about dragging him inside."

"Thanks," she shot back, and bent down to Obi-Wan's side as Threepio shuffled hurriedly into the bay.

"Wait! Wait!" the droid anxiously called out.

Leia swam in Obi-Wan's vision, and he blinked to make sure there was only one of her. "Quickly. Vader's coming."

Her face paled. "How do you know that?"

"I'll tell you later when we have more time," he said, fatigued.

Leia looked up to see Threepio arriving. "Take his legs," she ordered quickly, picking up Obi-Wan's forearms. He winced at the forming bruises around his right elbow but said nothing as the princess and droid hauled him inside the _Falcon._

They had just come up into the corridor when Chewbacca's roar came from outside, and he strode up the ramp soon after, carrying another prone form in his arms.

"Who's that?" Leia asked, then shook her head. "Never mind. Han's waiting for you in the cockpit; we'll look after these two. Hurry up. Vader's coming."

Chewie hrrrrnnned in acknowledgement, and carefully laid Mara down beside Obi-Wan.

The Jedi rolled his head to the side and smiled faintly. He had heard her cry out, and knew what it had meant. Perhaps now she would be more open to him…but he knew he'd have to see about that after he came back to consciousness.

~~~***~~~

More coming sooner…or later.


	4. Hidden Force

Hooray! Chapter 4, and sooner than I expected!

Shoutouts:

****

Kynstar, kyer, and Kitkat: Hmm…four Ks…anyway. Many thanks for your reviews…kyer, Obi-Wan's going to get a lightsaber constructed as soon as feasibly possible. 

I put all three of you together here because you all addressed the possibility of an Obi-Jade romance. Well…

Kynstar, do you mind awfully if I use your noise here? It seems so wonderfully appropriate.

(snrk)

I cannot deny the thought entered my mind, but I didn't entertain it for long…I don't consider myself to be very good in handling romance, as it has so many ways of coming out horribly insipid and cheesy. Besides that, it makes me cringe…yes, I am a chick. No, I hate chick flicks. Anything that makes you, the Reader, think that a relationship might be starting…well, you're right, but it's not that kind. I'm aiming for more of a mentorship thing. Whether Mara wants that or not, though, remains to be seen…

Okay, we have that cleared up now. On to my other reviewers.

****

Elf: You know who you are. How'd the cake turn out?…Ahem. Anyway, I already addressed this issue with Elf, but I'll say it again: anything Chewbacca has said so far has been written as an indirect quotation. For direct quotations, which may or may not occur later, I'll put it up as so many other SW writers do: [Hi. My name is Chewbacca. I shall now rip your arm off.] You get the idea.

****

A Tye: Many thanks! And you shall see more!

You shall see more as of now, in fact, because here…is Chapter the Fourth.

~~~***~~~

At times the _Millennium Falcon_ almost seemed like a sentient ship, and sometimes Han wished she was.

He did now, anyway; if only he could tell her why he was so bent on starting her up…

But no such luck. Han was forced out of the cockpit to stand before one of the control panels, busily flipping switches as Chewie kept an eye on a bothersome gauge.

"How's this?" Han asked, but received a negative grunt from his copilot. Frustrated, he hammered the next switch so hard it almost broke off.

Leia was close enough to hear, and called out, "Would it help if I got out and pushed?" Her voice sounded just as exasperated as he felt.

"It might," Han said over his shoulder, trying to figure out which switch to take his anger out on next, one he preferably wouldn't need anytime soon…

Against Leia's wishes, Threepio clanked up and cocked his head. "Captain Solo, sir…might I suggest that you—"

Han shot the droid a look that might have melted circuitry, and hurried off to the cockpit.

"It can wait," Threepio added, hoping not to rouse the captain's wrath, an activity that he seemed to be extremely adept at without even trying.

"Get back here," Leia snapped at him.

Obediently, Threepio turned and shuffled back to Leia and the two unconscious forms as the boarding ramp rose up, sealing off the outside world. "Yes, your Highness?"

She glared heatedly at him, a look that matched Han's. Threepio seemed to be getting an awful lot of those, today. "Take her, and follow me."

Threepio watched as Leia brought her hands under Obi-Wan's arms and began carefully dragging him off to the med bay.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear," he murmured, and imitated Leia's movements awkwardly. Threepio didn't know how he kept getting himself into these situations. He was programmed for protocol, and would have been much more adept at arranging a dinner party than playing the medical droid. Wistfully, he wondered where Two-Onebee was as he shuffled backwards down the corridor, dragging Mara along.

***

Obi-Wan struggled back into consciousness. He couldn't remember why, but he was sure he had to come awake before someone else did to warn somebody else of something…

His eyes fluttered open as he felt himself being lifted onto a bed of some sort; his head turned to the side a bit and he could see Leia again.

She smiled despite her anxiety at the entire situation they were in and dabbed at his forehead with something cool and wet.

"Leia…" he murmured. "Leia…cuff Mara to Threepio."

Ignoring her moderate surprise at his use of her first name, she leaned in closer. "Mara's the woman?"

He nodded and closed his eyes. "Cuff her to Threepio…or something else…can't trust her yet."

Confused, Leia fastened the crash webbing around him to make sure he wouldn't roll out of the cot and turned to Threepio, who was dragging Mara in. Coming around him, Leia bent down to pick up Mara's ankles. "We're taking her to the bunks. There's only one med cot."

***

Lights in the cockpit blinked madly at him. "C'mon…" he growled, punching buttons above his head and hitting a lever on the side panel.

Something began purring, then coughed out. He cursed and whacked a spot on the bulkhead with his fist, a spot much more worn than the rest of the bulkhead, telling of its frequent beating. The purring started up again, taking on a stronger note, but Han had no time to throw a victory party.

Stormtroopers rushed into the far side of the hangar and some began setting up a large stuttergun; Han silently thanked an old friend for suggesting the installation of a hidden blaster and twisted a dial. _Good thinking, Shug._

The weapon dropped out of a hatch and began to fire on the Imperials, scattering their efforts and laying them out over the hangar floor.

Chewie came in then, and strapped himself into his chair, growling anxiously.

"No kidding," Han snapped, and saw Leia come in out of the corner of his eye. "So how's the extra cargo? Strapped in?"

"They're fine, for now. I don't see how this bucket of bolts is ever going to get us past that blockade."

"This baby's got a few surprises left in her, sweetheart," Han muttered. "Switch over," he told Chewbacca. "Let's hope we don't have a burnout."

Chewie yelped as a laser hit the cockpit window, and turned to see more Imperials pouring into the hangar. He pulled back the controls quickly and the three heard the engines fire up.

Han grinned. "See?"

"Someday you're going to be wrong, and I hope I'm there to see it," she snapped back.

"Punch it!" he said to Chewie.

The _Falcon_ roared out of the hangar just in time for Vader to see it disappear out of the cave's opening.

***

Her throat was so dry it hurt to breathe; she swallowed painfully and opened her eyes. She wondered what had happened to Kenobi when a golden head loomed into her vision, and blinked twice…

It wasn't Kenobi, just a droid. The glowing eyes seemed to regard her cheerfully. "Oh, hello. I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations. Who might I have the pleasure of introducing myself to?" It spoke in a stilted, accented voice; the words might not have been so annoying if it wasn't for that _voice_…

She started to cough…then she noticed the cuff around her hand, attaching her to the droid.

"Oh, dear," Threepio said. "Are you quite all right?"

Mara glared furiously at him and rasped, "I would be if you'd shut up."

Threepio silenced his next remark, wondering if today was a galactically acclaimed day for rude behavior. He had been either glared at, told off, or brushed away over eleven times today alone, a figure he calculated to be forty-five point six percent higher than usual. He reasoned that perhaps human behavior became more difficult when it was subjected to the stresses of war, a theory he found to be reasonably believable.

Mara tried to make herself relax, wondering where in the galaxy was she, and with what sort of people that would keep around a droid like _this_…

***

Luke rose his head to watch the _Millennium Falcon_ burst out of the hangar and fly across the planet surface, rising into the atmosphere. At least Han had fixed the thing in time to make it out.

He turned then, plodding through the snow to his X-wing. Luke waved to the other pilots who were also boarding, and climbed up the ladder. He felt tired from the fight with the AT-ATs, and his heart sank when he thought of his copilot Dack and all the others who had been killed in the battle.

Artoo chirped happily at him as he came to the top of the ladder.

He smiled at the droid, forgetting his cares for a moment. "Artoo, get her ready for takeoff."

The astromech burbled impatiently as he lowered himself into the cockpit, eager to leave.

"Don't worry, Artoo. We're going, we're going." He buckled in his crash webbing and took hold of the controls as the canopy closed around him. Soon his X-wing was blasting off into vacuum, leaving the cold air of Hoth for the colder void of space.

Artoo whistled curiously as they banked into a different vector than the other X-wings had taken, and his question appeared on the screen in Aurebesh: WHAT'S WRONG? IS THERE A MALFUNCTION?

"There's nothing wrong, Artoo," Luke said into his comlink, punching some numbers into the navicomputer link. "I'm just setting a new course."

The astromech beeped in confusion.

"We're not going to regroup with the others."

There was the smallest of pauses, and the next question came up: WHERE ARE WE GOING?

"We're going to the Dagobah system." Luke looked over the readouts, making some adjustments while the hyperspace jump was being calculated.

Artoo waited a moment before continuing with a stream of whistles.

Luke smiled at the offer. "That's all right. I'd like to keep it on manual control for a while."

***

He grunted at the sharp pain shooting up his side as the ship rocked under him, forcing his ribs against the crash webbing that secured him to the cot. Obi-Wan suspected one of his ribs was cracked, but there would be time to look after that later. He slowly reached for the buckles, taking off the webbing and carefully sitting up.

Obi-Wan was doing much better now; the cause of the floor rocking under his feet was due to attack from outside, not his disoriented sense of balance. He stood slowly, and made his way to the cockpit.

No one noticed him enter; Leia stood behind Chewie's seat, clutching the headrest tightly, and Chewbacca and Han each appeared to be doing six things at once.

Chewie roared.

"I see them, I see them," Han barked back.

"Saw what?" demanded Leia.

"Star Destroyers. Two of them, coming right at us." Han worked away furiously as Obi-Wan came up behind his chair.

Leia noticed him then. "What are you doing up?" she asked him sharply. "You should be lying down."

He shook his head, looking out to the Star Destroyers. "I'm all right." Normally he would have been less brusque, but there was a dark presence he needed to hide from, and, as a Jedi, he knew his own strength.

She was startled; turning, he could see the angry blaze in her eyes. Leia still was a princess, and being brushed off by someone she supposed was a mere seventeen-year old recruit was enough to provoke her.

But before she could say anything, he held up a hand. "I was hoping to explain this to you later, but I suppose I'd better tell you now: I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Her mouth, as well as her eyes, began to form a question.

"I was cloned but I regained my memory. Later would be a better time to go into detail."

Leia shut her mouth and nodded, looking as if she had been stricken dumb.

Han pointedly kept his attention up front and ordered to Chewie, "Check the deflector shield."

One of the Wookiee's long arms reached up to adjust an overhead switch as he yarrned plaintively.

"Oh, great," muttered Han. "Well, we can still outmaneuver them."

That was believable; it didn't take a quantum physicist to know that the _Falcon,_ while not nearly as nimble as a one-man starfighter, would be able to turn on a decicred compared to the hulking Imperial monsters.

Chewbacca caught a sparkle of mischief in Han's eye and wondered what his captain had planned for the sluggish Star Destroyers.

Han clenched his teeth as he gunned them toward an oncoming _Victory-_class Destroyer, then started into a deep dive downward to their former position. The four TIEs that had been on their tail followed them "down" as the Star Destroyer continued on, unable to halt its momentum in time…it slowly veered away from the other two Destroyers, narrowly escaping a collision.

Han grinned as he thought of the panic he was creating; too bad Darth Vader hadn't been here to see it. Some officer would have paid with his life for such an embarrassment, if one hadn't collapsed of a heart attack already.

The four TIE fighters were relentless in their pursuit, buffeting the _Falcon _with laser blasts as the onboard computer gave Han the signal that they were clear of Hoth's gravity well.

"Prepare to make the jump to lightspeed," he said, running through the rendezvous coordinates one last time.

Leia was far more nervous than she would have liked. "They're getting closer!"

Han grinned; soon things would be his way again. "Oh, yeah? Watch this!"

But the stars did not shift for Han Solo this time. He exchanged a look of deadly concern with Chewie's troubled blue eyes.

"Watch what?" snapped Leia.

Han pulled the lever again. The stars were unforgiving, simply staying in place, staring coldly at the _Falcon._ "I think we're in trouble."

"It sounds as if the motivator is damaged," mused Obi-Wan from behind his head. "Things like that are difficult to notice groundside."

"We're in trouble," Han confirmed, agreeing with Obi-Wan's diagnosis, and jumped out of his seat. "Chewie, follow me. You two…" He shook his head. "See what you can do."

Leia exchanged looks with Obi-Wan as the pair raced out of the cockpit for quick repairs.

Obi-Wan took the controls, settling into the seat and trying to make evasive action while leaving the ship still enough for things not to rattle around too badly back there…

***

Han hung upside-down from a metal beam, working furiously at a control panel. "Horizontal boosters!"

Chewie barked down at him.

"Alluvial dampers…Well, that's not it…bring me the hydrospanners!"

Chewbacca quickly retrieved a box from nearby and set it down on the edge of the pit.

Han rose to select one of the spanners, and glanced up at Chewie. "I don't know how we're going to get out of this one."

He had just spun back down to work when the ship lurched radically, and the tools fell down onto Han. "Oww! Chewie!"

Chewbacca brayed in alarm as the _Falcon_ rocked, making it feel as if they were swinging erratically back and forth. Though the movements were smooth, they were quick enough to send anything loose flying.

Han's head popped back out of the pit, and he frowned. Leia wouldn't be piloting like that…he knew Leia wouldn't be piloting, anyway. "What the hell does he think he's doing? Get up there and tell him to quit being so damn evasive—"

Leia's voice came over the comlink. "Han, get up here!"

"Come on, Chewie!" Han clambered out of the hold and ran back to the cockpit, Chewie on his heels.

The cockpit's window presented them with the reason for Obi-Wan's unpredictable piloting. He brought the ship up smoothly to dodge another asteroid, coming clear of a smaller chunk of rock orbiting its parent.

"Asteroids," Leia said grimly.

Sensitive to the captain's wishes, Obi-Wan slid out of the pilot's chair quickly and out of the way as Han took the controls. 

"Chewie, set two-seven-one." Han's brow furrowed as he quickly looked over the screens.

Chewbacca took his usual seat, complying with a grunt.

Leia's eyes grew round as Han kept the course. "What are you doing? You're not actually going _into_ an asteroid field?"

"They'd be crazy to follow us, wouldn't they?" he retorted, barely missing the next asteroid. 

It grazed the ship and Leia winced. "You don't have to do this to impress me."

***

Mara grabbed the side of the bunk as the ship shook under her. "What's going on? Those aren't laser blasts."

Threepio's neck servos jerked his head to one side. "I beg your pardon?"

Her temper flared. "Can't you tell? We're being pummeled with space debris. Asteroids, most likely. There's a belt just beside Hoth."

Threepio grew flustered…she had no idea how she knew that. The droid seemed to have an unusual talent of looking nervous without being able to move his facial features. "But the possibility of successfully navigating an asteroid field is approximately three thousand seven hundred and twenty to one! We're doomed!" he concluded in distress.

"Either tell that to the pilot or shut the hell up," she snarled, wishing it were possible to strangle droids.

***

The TIEs were under an even deadlier risk as they doggedly pursued the Corellian freighter into the asteroid belt; the frail little fighters were fast but had a total lack of shielding. One, unable to veer away in time, connected with an asteroid and instantly exploded. Another clipped its solar paneled wing on a smaller rock and spun out of control until it, too, vanished in a vacuum-silenced flare of light.

The oncoming _Victory-_class Star Destroyers were faring somewhat better; turbolasers targeted the more threatening rocks, vaporizing them as the massive ships slowly advanced into the field, clearing themselves a path while still battered with the smaller asteroids.

Darth Vader, open as he was, felt the TIE pilots' lives wink out of existence, but he was not focused on them. For once, he wasn't even focused on Luke. There was a stronger presence aboard the _Millennium Falcon._ One that, in its silence, spoke immeasurably to him.

The technicians had said it was impossible…but they, in their ignorance, had created the very man Vader had taken years—no, decades—to dispatch. The Empire had even _endorsed_ the boy…

The Sith lord's fist closed around thin air. Soon the Imperial Palace would be hiring again. He wished he could be there to execute the technicians himself, something the Emperor would be looking after instead.

But for now Vader turned his brooding attention into the _Falcon._ He knew before he caught up to Luke, he would again have to rid the galaxy of by now the most pestilent Jedi Master he had ever known.

***

Leia turned in confusion as Obi-Wan cried out; for the moment no asteroids were thudding against the hull or whizzing by the window. "What's wrong?"

He was weakened from the fight, mentally as well as emotionally, and his frenzied eyes seemed to burn through her as his clenched jaw tightened. "Quickly. Give me your hand."

Hesitantly, she offered it; he took it in a firm but gentle grip. She was alarmed at how hot it felt, and squeezed back. "What's the matter?" she repeated.

"Leia…I need you to give me your strength." He saw her bewildered expression. "There's no time…quickly. Concentrate."

Flabbergasted, she shut her eyes and tried to bottle up her strength to send to him via their physical connection. She thought it might work even though she wasn't a Jedi; perhaps he could take what she offered because he was one.

"Good," he murmured, to her surprise. "You're doing well."

Leia could not sense the dark onslaught that was pouring itself onto Obi-Wan from their mutual enemy, could only follow his directions with no idea of what was really happening. She tried harder at his encouragement.

He felt her strength come slowly but steadily, and concentrated all of it plus the little he had left of his own on fending off Vader's strong probing and building walls around both of them. It was too early for either Vader or Leia to know of their ties; the knowledge might destroy her at this point, one way or another. He could not let Vader know where he was gaining strength from. Any properly trained Force-sensitive would know that it was impossible to tap into a non-sensitive's strength enough to build such shielding, and if Vader would be given an option out of all the others on board, Obi-Wan knew which one the dark lord would pick as the sensitive sentient. And then the most dangerous thing: Vader would wonder why.

Little by little, the dark opposition retreated for another time, and Obi-Wan slumped forward in his seat, relieved but totally exhausted.

Chewbacca barked in concern, noticing Obi-Wan's state.

"Leia can take care of it," Han said, deeply focused in his piloting. "You have to keep an eye on the shields, or we might all die anyway."

Chastened, Chewbacca turned back to the computers, still keeping a weather eye back on the other two.

Leia was in a bad position to push Obi-Wan back up, but she struggled to regardless and managed to prop him back up. "You're really having a bad day, aren't you?" she murmured in his ear.

No response came, but she expected none from the seemingly comatose Jedi, who almost slid out of his seat at an abrupt maneuver from Han.

"You said you wanted to be around when I made a mistake; well, this could be it, sweetheart," Han muttered as he grappled with the controls.

"I take it back," she told him. "We're going to get pulverized if we stay out here much longer."

"I'm not going to argue with that." He narrowed his eyes, searching the field for a likely asteroid. "I'm going in closer to one of the big ones."

"Closer?" Leia echoed in astonishment, Chewbacca barking the word even louder in his own tongue.

Han flipped them to port, skimming his belly past a rock as he dove down to a massive asteroid, half the size of a small moon. The two remaining TIE fighters pursued him down to the surface, but soon met defeat as the combination of quick maneuvering and narrow canyons got the better of them.

Glancing down to his main scope, Han spotted something he liked. "There. That looks pretty good."

Leia tried to see. "What looks pretty good?"

"Yeah." Han's mouth quirked into a half-smile; perhaps he'd found what he wanted, after all. "That'll do nicely."

Leia and Chewie understood as the _Falcon_ neared a large crater and completed a neat loop to disappear into the deep shaft.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she murmured to him as they cruised in, gradually decelerating.

"Yeah…me too."

***

Deep in a healing trance, Obi-Wan felt the stars. He was still attentive enough to keep up the shields, still observant enough to reach out for one nearby star in particular, looking for an old friend.

The friend expressed a complete shock at feeling his presence, a surprise at a magnitude that Obi-Wan had never felt from him before. _Alive you are…and yet I felt you die._

Obi-Wan would have smiled. _The Empire gave me back to the Order, and so my work is not yet finished, Master._

Amusement reached him as the friend arrived at a guess. _So arrogant were they to do such a thing. Such ignorance of the capacity of the Force._

Obi-Wan remembered the thing he had to tell his Master. _Luke Skywalker comes to you for training._

This time his friend was not surprised. _Yes, this I know. Prepared a reception for him, I have. Little time, will there be…but enough._

Obi-Wan's heart grew heavy. _I wish I could come, Master, but for now it is impossible._

He felt a bit of impatience. _Taught you nothing, have I? If to come, you are, arranged it will be. Until then, by young Leia your place remains. Looked after, the twins must be, until complete their training is._

Yes, Master. Obi-Wan thought to amuse his Master with the thought that he had regained his youthful thinking along with his new body, but he knew Yoda would hardly agree with him.

__

Fascinating, Obi-Wan thought to himself, _how Yoda learns the fact that a Jedi has actually returned to life beyond all odds and then so quickly brushes away the surprise, lecturing me as if I was a junior Padawan returning from stomping on Master I'tah's terish-flower bushes in the Temple courtyard._

He opened his eyes long enough to see Leia's worried face, give her a reassuring smile, and fall back into a deep healing trance.

***

Life.

It was all around him, spreading from the roots of the ancient trees to the very top of the canopy; it skittered and slithered around in the form of lizards and snakes; it glided from tree to tree as birds and hawk-bats. Dagobah teemed with natural life.

Death.

It spoke to him from the nearby cave, where a powerful Sith had died an age ago. The numbing tendrils reached out to him, whispering iniquities into his ear…but at the same time, the death preserved his life. One dark presence next to one of the light; the two beacons cancelled each other out to any outside search party.

Exactly the way Yoda wanted it. Life and death worked hand in hand for him; life ran through his veins now, and within a matter of time death would claim him. It was the way of things.

And as the old ones passed on, a new generation would arise to take up the position…but before that happened, the knowledge, the training…it had to be passed on. The elder had one responsibility remaining.

The new generation, currently manifested in one human, had just arrived. Yoda picked up his gimer stick and trudged out into the mists.

***

The gloom that Piett stepped into was comparable to that of the throne room in the Imperial Palace, though he was fortunate enough never to have had an occasion to visit.

The freshly promoted admiral hesitated as the doors slid shut behind him. Years ago as a cadet, he'd been privy to all the rumors surrounding the hair-raising things that went on in Lord Vader's meditation chamber. He could recall some…and some he didn't want to. Superstition, he knew, could easily become fact if the dark lord saw it fit. A heavy feeling of foreboding draped itself on his shoulders but he shook it off as best he could and stepped farther into the room.

Piett almost turned away when he saw the hatch was open, the rumors circulating in his mind, but curiousity piqued in him and his eyes remained riveted to the fascinatingly revolting scene.

Though he didn't see anything more than the back of Vader's bare head, the glimpse alone was enough to put a foundation into some of those rumors. The ugly mass of scar tissue was covered up as a metal arm moved down to place the black helmet back into place, and Vader rotated in his chair to face Piett, who snapped instantly to attention as the hatch opened fully. "Yes, Admiral?"

"Our ships have sighted the _Millennium Falcon,_ lord. But…it has entered an asteroid field and we cannot risk…"

__

"Going in much farther" was snatched from his lips as Vader interrupted him. "Asteroids do not concern me, Admiral. I want that ship, and not excuses."

"Yes, milord," Piett said, vividly recalling the death of his predecessor, Admiral Ozzel. He wheeled about smartly as the hatch closed down again, and strode out of the room, sweat beading at the back of his neck.

***

Leia stared out the cockpit at the dank-looking cave as Han and Chewie quickly slapped off the systems.

"I'm going to shut down everything but the emergency power systems," Han muttered, half to himself. He didn't want to risk being found if the Imperials conducted an energy sweep, which he knew was standard protocol anyway.

[Does that include shutting Threepio down?] Chewie inquired hopefully.

"No," Han said with a wistful tone. "I need him to talk to the systems and find out what's wrong with the hyperdrive. Pity, really."

Chewbacca muttered his agreement.

Leia smothered a grin, then recalled where Threepio was at the moment. "I suppose I'll go back and get him. Uh…" She frowned. "Chewie…could you hold the general in his seat until I come back?"

The Wookiee consented, and instead hauled Obi-Wan's limp form out of the chair into his lap, cradling him like an infant in his huge arms.

Han shook his head, knowing better than to comment. "Sure, then…" Something was nagging him in the very back of his mind, beckoning for his attention; hardly anything, but he had learned to trust his acute sense of intuition over the years. It was the eyes in the back of the head that all experienced smugglers developed after a while. So he listened to it, and turned to follow Leia. "I'm coming with you. I want to see this extra passenger for myself."

"I can handle it," she snapped without turning around, suddenly irritated.

"Hey, your Worship, I just tend to like knowing who's riding on my ship, is all."

Leia snorted, still walking, not bothering to face him. "You don't know _me_ all that well, it seems."

"Well enough," he muttered under his breath.

Fortunately, she didn't hear him, and they came into the bunks.

The door hissed open to reveal a striking redhead perched on the edge a bunk, cuffed to the protocol droid, her green eyes burning into both Han and Leia at once.

"What," said Han, viewing the scene, "is this?"

Leia shrugged. "It was General Kenobi's idea—"

Suddenly the ship lurched, causing all the loose items in the area to go flying. Mara held on to the bunk for dear life as Threepio flailed his loose limb in alarm. Han and Leia found themselves colliding in the doorway and grabbed each other for support, only realizing they were in each other's arms when the motion stopped.

As best he could, Threepio perked up. "Sir…it's quite possible this asteroid is not entirely stable."

"Not entirely stable?" Han snarled sarcastically. "I'm glad you're here to tell us these things. Now come here and I'll—"

Mara took a firm grip on the droid's wrist and yanked with all her physical and metaphysical strength. Threepio's arm popped off with a cut-off yell on his part, and she swung it around dangerously, knocking him off his metal-shod feet and closely missing Leia.

Han shouted a curse as Mara jumped at him; his draw was too quick for her and the stun beam coursed through her body as momentum carried her into him, slamming him into the floor.

"Oh, dear," said Threepio as Leia pushed Mara off of Han. "Sometimes I just don't understand human behavior. After all, I'm only trying to do my job in the most—"

"Tell me you didn't start telling her stories," Leia interrupted his indignant statement.

"Well, your Highness, I'm not much of a storyteller, I'm afraid, but I did quote to her a most excellent piece of—"

"Oh, wonderful," moaned Leia, trying to prop a gasping Han up. "You bored her to tears, don't you see? This was the only reasonable response."

Han rubbed his forehead. "Now that you say that, I'm almost tempted to forgive her."

Leia hauled him to his feet, and just as they got up, the ship pitched under their feet again. He staggered backwards into a seat and she tumbled after him, sitting down awkwardly into his lap.

The ship shuddered once more as she felt his arms around her middle, and tugged at them. "Let go."

"Shhh," he said, putting up one finger for silence.

But she still tugged at his arms. "Let go, please."

Han noticed her annoyance. "Don't get excited."

Leia's anger rose then, her voice automatically taking on a haughtier tone. "Captain, being held by you is quite enough to get me excited."

He grinned, hauling her up by her underarms and setting her feet on the floor. "Sorry, sweetheart; we haven't got time for anything else."

Fuming at his wicked smile, her eyes flashed and she stormed off to the cockpit.

"Hey," he called after her, "could you tell Chewie I want him back here?"

Her course didn't alter as she vanished around the bend.

He sighed and turned back to Mara, who was beginning to twitch. Not wanting to take any risks, he pumped another stun blast into her, then went back to root out the med kit.

Yes, the small vials were there; he was fortunate Chewbacca had remembered to replace them after their first little episode with the stormtroopers in the Death Star. Snapping one vial of anesthetic to a clean syringe, he headed back to Mara and carefully slipped the needle into her arm, giving her half the dose. Now he had another three hours' time.

Threepio still sat dazed and confused by the bunks, his arm stump terminating in a mess of wires. "Oh, my…Captain Solo, would it be entirely possible to have my arm replaced? It is a rather convenient appendage, after all—"

"Oh, spare me," he growled, wondering if the droid had the capacity to be satirical with him. "Chewie'll look after it after you tell me what's wrong with the hyperdrive. Now get over here."

Deferentially, Threepio managed to push himself back up to a standing position and clanked his way over.

***

The gray light that drifted from the canopies down to the swampy ground grew even dimmer as twilight slowly made its dreary arrival. Yoda picked his way through the vegetation, attuned to the sole other sentient on the entire planet.

A soft yellow glow beckoned to him through the trees and hanging vines. He knew what it was. A mere farmboy's lantern.

If things went as planned, it would soon be a light in the hands of a warrior.

~~~***~~~


	5. The Watcher

Wow…I'm actually very surprised at all these reviews I'm getting. I didn't expect so much…my shoutout list will be growing.

Anyway, I'll get on with the shoutouts first, to say Thank You To Everyone Who's Bothered To Review So Far! Keep It Up!! It Makes Me Feel Warm And Fuzzy, Which Induces Better Writing (hint hint)!!!

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kayladie: Well, Obi-Wan is generally the type one can warm up to quickly…I suppose I'm living proof, seeing as 75% of my fanfiction features him…but I don't think you could compare this to obanoa's work…The Water's Edge is akin to an online classic, I think. And don't you worry about Luke and Mara.

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Kynstar: Thanks again! And yes…I really do like that noise of yours. It's quite addicting, really…

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NathanPostmark: So nice to feel wanted…:)

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kyer: My sentiments exactly. Scrap unnecessary romance…we've got enough as it is. And, yes…there will definitely be some Imperial booty-kicking…(plots a nasty fate and grins)

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A Tye: Ooh, emotional fallout… yes, we shall see about that, won't we?

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Elf: Too bad about the icing…but I'm sure they didn't mind. I envision you as a good baker, somehow. (grins back)

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ewan's girl: Oh, I'm touched…but do you really think you should be reading at work? (lol) I assure you and all the other readers again, there will be no romance between Obi-Wan and Mara. I've no intentions of messing with plot lines _that_ much, and anything that may rise suspicions will only be out of general compassion/friendliness…well, however much Mara has, anyway. I've been told the Greeks had four different words for love, and the love between Obi-Wan and Mara will be nothing more than mentor-student, depending on how far Mara wants to go with it.

Oh, and as a side note, Mara won't really be having much of an impact on this chapter, as she is currently unconscious, but she'll be up and kicking next chapter, I promise. Also, I am introducing one or two new characters…but just who those characters are will be for you to deduce.

On with Chapter the Fifth.

~~~***~~~

Chewbacca cradled Obi-Wan with one arm, supporting his head like one would an infant's, while patting his face with the other hand. It had seemed to work last time. But the Wookiee could not see or feel how far the Jedi was from consciousness, how deep he had buried himself to spend some time in healing.

Over the near two decades spent on Tatooine, Obi-Wan had developed his healing skills to a finely honed edge, allowing his former fifty-seven year old body to recuperate at the rate it would have when he was twenty. Now he was able to heal about three times faster than the average human his bodily age, an impressive figure for most Jedi.

Chewbacca suddenly barked, startled as the ship heaved under him. Obi-Wan's deadpan expression didn't waver.

Still anxious, Chewbacca wondered how much of a search the Empire was putting out. They seemed to be going into an awful lot of trouble for one freighter…but then, it was the live cargo they wanted. They would all be hard merchandise if a bounty hunter caught up with them, which Chewie reasoned would be sooner or later. But Han had managed to slip away from even Boba Fett, the most notorious tracker in the known galaxy. Chewie had great faith in Han's ability to elude that sort of trouble, if none else.

Leia entered the cockpit then, and was nearly thrown off her feet as the ship bucked again. Her arms waved wildly and she sat down hard in the seat across from Chewbacca. "I don't know what's going on, inside or out…"

Chewbacca looked back at her curiously. She seemed to be remarkably annoyed, and he grunted softly.

Leia couldn't translate Shyriiwook word for word yet by any means, but she could take a good guess what Chewie meant half the time. "He wants you back there. Just prop the general up in the other seat here; he'll be fine." _I hope,_ she added silently. She had just come across General Kenobi now, and was not about to lose him again.

Chewbacca complied, easily lifting Obi-Wan up and over into the next seat, propping him up like a doll on display. Leia nearly got a mouthful of fur as the Wookiee passed through the narrow space between seats.

She grimaced once the door slid shut behind Chewie, and looked to Obi-Wan. His head lolled to one side, his features slackened in repose. Leia tried to prop him up better; the way he was now, he would likely wake with a hideous crick in his neck.

As she was attempting to reposition his head, he inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh. "Luke."

She blinked in surprise, not knowing what to say.

A smile twitched at his lips. "Luke…few meters t' the left…"

Leia sat bewildered as he lapsed into silence again. _What was that about?_ she wondered…but then, some things were better ignored.

She carefully fastened the crash webbing around him, just in case the ship decided to lurch again, and made her way to the back. Perhaps she could help out with the repairs; she wasn't that bad with a set of tools.

***

The young voice filtered through the swamp, reaching his ears. "Ready for some power? Okay…there you go…"

He skirted around a spot he knew to be particularly boggy as he kept his hearing attuned to the disembodied voice.

It came again, quieter this time; he could tell it was laden with worry even as it was muffled from the trees. "Now all I have to do is find this Yoda…if he even exists."

He was amused at that as he trundled slowly along through the wisps of mist covering the ground. He would not be what Luke expected…not at all.

He was closer now; it sounded as if the boy was talking through a mouthful of food with the first few words. That was something that had to be remedied, Force training or not. But for now, it was time to put on the act…to put young Skywalker to the test.

"Still, there's something familiar about this place. I don't know…I almost feel like…"

Yoda perched himself on top of a log. "Feel like what?"

Luke was startled and drew his blaster quickly, rounding on the unfamiliar voice. "Like we're being watched."

Yoda threw his arm over his eyes, feigning fear as he placed himself into character. "Away put your weapon! I mean you no harm. I am wondering…" He peered over his arm at the boy. "Why are you here?"

The blaster wavered in Luke's hand. "I'm looking for someone."

"Looking?" Yoda put his arm down and beamed. "Found someone, you have, I would say, hmmm?" He chuckled, sounding more than a little unstable.

Luke hid a smile, putting away the blaster, wondering how he was going to deal with the senile little creature. "Right."

"Help you, I can," Yoda persisted. "Yes, mmmm."

"I don't think so. I'm looking for a great warrior."

Yoda could see he had much work ahead of him; he would practically have to rip the boy's mind apart and put it back together again. It wouldn't hurt to start now. "Ah… great warrior." Yoda hopped off the log, crossing the little camp. "Wars not make one great." Rather the contrary, in Yoda's opinion. Wars were things to be involved in only if absolutely necessary. In the old Master's mind, there was no such thing as the romantic aspect of war. It was a dirty, bloody thing, begun by petty squabbles; to him, there was nothing more disgusting.

But Yoda was not one to shirk from duty, especially not now. Besides, he had been isolated for years, and Luke's camp had some interesting things to look at. He walked up to one of the supply cases, which had Luke's open ration pack on it. Yoda grabbed one of the protein sticks and tore off a bite.

"Put that down!" Luke exclaimed. "Hey, that's my dinner!"

Yoda spat the morsel out on the ground as Luke took the protein stick away from him and closed the ration pack, putting it higher up. These military rations tasted even worse than when he'd last had them… He made a face, deepening the creases that were already there, lining his green features with miniature ravines. "How you get so big, eating food of this kind?"

Luke was already exasperated. "Listen, friend, we didn't mean to land in that puddle, and if we could get our ship out, we would, but we can't, so why don't you just—"

"Aww," Yoda teased as he rooted around inside the case, throwing miscellaneous items out behind him. "Cannot get your ship out?" He spotted a tiny power lamp and seized it, looking it over like a trophy.

"Hey, you could have broken this," Luke scolded. This trip was already more than he had bargained for. "Don't do that…oh, you're making a mess." He saw the lamp tightly enclosed in Yoda's clutches. "Hey, give me that!"

Yoda retreated, holding the lamp close to him. "Mine! Or I will help you not."

Luke's sky-blue eyes flashed. "I don't need your help. I want my lamp back. I'll need it to get out of this slimy mudhole."

"Mudhole?" Yoda repeated. "Slimy? My home this is…"

Suddenly the little lamp was grabbed by one of Artoo's mechanical arms, and the two little figures fought over it, each tugging for all they were worth. Luke could hear the little stranger's vocal chords straining, as well as Artoo's servomotors.

"Oh, Artoo," Luke said, "let him have it."

"Mine! Mine!" Yoda insisted, refusing to let go.

The droid still didn't let go, and Luke scolded him. "Artoo!"

"Mine!" Yoda repeated as Artoo's arm retracted back into its casing. Reaching out with his gimer stick, Yoda poked the metal flap back into place as Artoo reeled off a long string of beeps.

Luke had had enough. "Now will you move along, little fella? We've got a lot of work to do."

Yoda's eyes shone with mischief. "No, no! Stay and help you, I will. Find your friend, hmm?"

"I'm not looking for a friend," Luke shot back. "I'm looking for a Jedi Master."

***

__

Master.

****

Yes, young Padawan?

Master, I am no longer young.

****

Ah, yes, appearances are deceptive.

Why are you back, Master?

****

Back? Why do you say that? I have always been here.

But you speak with me. You haven't done that since…well…since years before I died. Longer than I can remember.

****

And now you_ are back._

Yes…what I meant was, you are active.

****

The Force wishes it to be so. Padawan, I speak with you now before I go to visit another.

Ah…You go to Master Yoda.

****

Yes…the second Skywalker will need every bit as much guidance as the first. I will be there to help him, when he needs it.

You will_ tell him who you are, won't you? Farmboys don't see hovering blue visions every day, you know._

****

Of course I will tell him. He will be told what I am to you. That will be enough for him.

And lean on Master Yoda if you need to…you know how stubborn he can be about these things.

****

The boy will be trained, Padawan; you have my word.

Master, no one lightly forgets the word of a dead man. May the Force be with you.

****

Yes, Padawan…it is. You need have no fear; where you are, the Force will be also. Everything happens for a greater good.

Yes, Master.

****

And Padawan?

What is it?

****

Have some fun; you're getting a rare second chance to.

Oh yes…that is one thing Yoda will never learn how to teach. Luke will need some encouragement in that aspect of life after this.

****

And perhaps that is one reason why you are alive…May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan.

Until we meet again, Master.

***

Threepio was becoming somewhat frustrated; the control panel in front of him was most uncooperative. The mystifying beeps it emitted to him were hardly translatable. "Oh, where is Artoo when I need him?"

Han entered the hold, crossing with a bundle of wire in his hand.

Threepio intercepted him, cocking his metallic head to one side in what Han immediately identified as the hated "professor" mode. "Sir, I don't know where your ship learned to communicate, but it has the most peculiar dialect. I believe, sir, it says that the power coupling on the negative axis has been polarized. I'm afraid you'll have to replace it."

"Well, of course I'll have to replace it," snarled Han, and kept walking.

Threepio was bewildered, but thought perhaps Captain Solo was angry with him because Threepio had managed to get his own arm completely torn off. It still lay on the hold floor, waiting to be replaced. Captain Solo had promised him it would be looked after once Threepio had talked with the _Falcon;_ well, the droid had already done that, but by the looks of things, it would be another while before they made any progress.

Han's capital bad mood was fading as he mentally relived the tearing off of Threepio's arm; he shook himself back to reality and held the wire bundle up into an access hole that led somewhere inside the ceiling, where Chewbacca was busily working away. "Here! And Chewie…"

Chewbacca turned to look down at him and growled inquisitively.

Han glanced back at Threepio, then said so softly only Chewie could hear: "I think we'd better replace the negative power coupling."

Chewie whined in assent, and carefully began unwinding the wire.

***

The lever was as immovable as she was. Leia grappled with it, banging against whatever kept it from sliding into place, taking her frustration out on the piece of machinery. She had already welded the valves and pulled the switches down, and couldn't imagine what else might be wrong with it.

__

Bang. Bang.

Then she felt him moving up behind her, his hands reaching on either side of her to help her with the lever. Her anger flared up again and she shoved him aside. She would make this thing work, _herself,_ if she had to get a—

"Hey, your Worship," Han interrupted her line of thought, "I'm only trying to help."

She continued struggling with the lever, not bothering to look back at him. "Would you please stop calling me that?"

He was surprised, to say the least. This time there was no cutting edge to her voice, no derisive mockery, just an uncomplicated request. _I could get used to this._ So he responded likewise; maybe that was what she had been wanting all this time. "Sure, Leia."

She paused grappling with the lever, glaring heatedly at it. "Oh, you make it so difficult sometimes."

__

Oops, he thought, _wrong again._ "I do, I really do." He shifted his position, leaning against the wall, trying to adopt a reasonable tone. "You could be a little nicer, though. Come on, admit it. Sometimes you think I'm all right."

Leia was tempted to roll her eyes; he was no diplomat, that was for sure. She paid for her lack of concentration when her thumb moved enough to get jammed between two pieces of metal on her next try, and she broke away, nursing the digit. "Occasionally, maybe, when you aren't acting like a scoundrel."

He raised his eyebrows and took her hand, rubbing it gently while a grin spread across his face. "Scoundrel? Scoundrel…I like the sound of that."

"Stop that," she interjected.

"Stop what?"

"Stop that!" Leia glared up at him, formulating an excuse. "My hands are dirty."

"My hands are dirty, too," he returned smoothly. "What're you afraid of?"

She looked directly into his eyes. "Afraid?"

Han leaned closer, ever so little. "You're trembling."

She shook her head, unable to hide a small smile. "I'm not trembling."

His eyes sparkled mischievously. "You like me because I'm a scoundrel. There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."

She shook her head, her smile matching his. "I happen to like nice men."

He nodded in consideration, bending closer. "I'm nice men."

"No, you're not," she managed before their lips locked.

Han figured maybe that was what she had been wanting, even though she did an excellently confusing job of hiding it.

Threepio, however, did not manage to hide his oblivious excitement, and came up in the doorway behind Han. "Sir! Sir, I've isolated the reverse power flux coupling!"

They shared a look of disgust as they disentangled. Han made a mental note to himself to at least wipe the droid's memory, once he gained enough ground with Leia. It was her droid, after all…but he couldn't figure out why she didn't blow the thing out of the airlock. He would have done it parsecs ago…years ago.

But instead of shoving Threepio into the airlock container, he turned slowly and said icily, "Thank you. Thank you…very…much."

The protocol droid was positively aglow with happiness; finally, he had done something right. "Oh, you're perfectly welcome, sir."

When Han looked back, she was gone.

***

An asteroid belt was the perfect test for a pilot's skill, desperation…or stupidity.

But Vader's prey had tried all kinds of things over the years to elude his inevitable grip. He was not surprised at this, and he knew no idea Captain Solo could conjure up would surprise him. It was never surprise that he worried about, though. Merely effectiveness. Vader had hardly even seen the man, and already he knew the smuggler was Calamarian eel-slippery, evasive enough to be considered dangerous, to a certain extent.

Frustrated, his fist tightened around thin air. How Obi-Wan was still shielding them, he could not know. The _Falcon_ and its occupants were invisible to the Force. By all rights, Kenobi should have been close to death if not dead already from the rigorous physical battle, which had worn him out for the mental attack. How had he survived?

__

How? He had never known any Jedi Master to be so resilient…not even the Council members he had killed…

Captain Needa's voice continued on through the hologram transmitter. "…and that, Lord Vader, was the last time they appeared in any of our scopes. Considering the amount of damage we've sustained, they must have been destroyed."

"No, Captain," the dark lord thundered, "they're alive. I want every ship available to sweep the asteroid field until they are found."

The holoprojectors withdrew the images of the other captains, one by one, as Vader felt Piett approaching. The Admiral's sense reeked with fear.

"Lord Vader," Piett said, approaching.

No, he decided the man's fear was not because of Darth Vader. He already knew who had called, in that case. "Yes, Admiral, what is it?"

Piett swallowed his fear long enough to speak, most of the color already drained from his face. "The Emperor commands you make contact with him."

"Move the ship out of the asteroid field so that we can send a clear transmission," Vader ordered, striding away. He would not have his master think that Vader was not always at his beck and call…it was useful for the Emperor to have a certain amount of trust in his direct subordinate, and Vader might as well sweeten the deal by attending to little details.

Piett was off with a brief "yes, my lord", busily arranging the change in velocity.

***

The Dark lord, alone in his chamber. He stepped up to the transmitting ring, kneeling down as the projectors sparked to life, forming a bodiless head that hovered over the floor at a blown-up scale. Light from the other end played over pits that held sunken yellow eyes, sickly in color, and a faintly aquiline nose that protruded from the grotesque face.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

The Emperor spoke slowly, as if a great weight was upon his noble mind that must be respected. "There is a great disturbance in the Force."

"I have felt it." More than that—Vader had tried to conquer it, without success…thus far.

"I do not speak of the heretic you think," the dry voice returned, stirring Vader's attention further. "We have a new enemy—Luke Skywalker."

"Yes, my master." The response was automatic as Vader grasped this new thing. The boy was a threat? Perhaps he had not been directing enough attention to young Luke; he had been busy enough attempting to deal with Kenobi.

"He could destroy us," the Emperor added, confirmation enough.

Vader was uncertain of what seemed to be a massive overestimation on the Emperor's part, not something that happened often. "He's just a boy. Obi-Wan will not always be able to help him."

"The Force is strong with him," Palpatine declared. "The son of Skywalker must not become a Jedi."

Wheels within wheels. It was impossible to conceive what the Emperor was planning. Vader suggested, "If he could be turned, he would become a powerful ally."

"Yes." The word held a note of agreement…and the next, approval. "_Yes._ He would be a great asset. Can it be done?"

Or rather: _Can you do this thing?_

What was Vader's response supposed to sound like?

His master… or his _son…_

But he knew he had already hesitated too long. "He will join us or die, master."

As the transmission signed off, the photons that formed the Emperor's leering face dissipating, Vader reviewed the brief conversation. His master had seemed terse, more so than usual, and even a bit vague…but why? Had someone been with him, listening to the discussion? Vader thought it unlikely; there were extremely few sentients the Emperor would place that sort of trust in.

Wheels within wheels…within wheels.

***

If the diminuitive stranger hadn't insisted on him coming in to eat, Luke would have stayed outside and soaked in the rain, the only thing besides the unapparent Jedi Master that attracted him to this planet. It was a bizarre thing to a young Tatooine farmer; he had heard amplified stories from all kinds of people about rain, though his uncle had brought it all crashing down and, like the pragmatist Owen Lars had always been, explained the water cycle briefly before ducking back under the speeder to tweak a malfunctioning replusorlift coil.

But he stayed inside, looking over the rim of the pot into something that vaguely resembled porridge. The steam quickly reached the roof of the mud dwelling; even sitting, Luke's head was bare centimeters from the ceiling. He sniffed at the porridge; it didn't smell too bad, though it was full of herbs he didn't recognize. "Look," he called back to his nameless host, "I'm sure it's delicious. I just don't understand why we can't see Yoda now."

"Patience!" The creature had quickly donned the role of Master of Ceremonies. "For the Jedi it is time to eat as well. Eat, eat," he encouraged. "Hot. Good food, hm? Good, hmm?"

Luke filled the wooden ladle and dumped the mound of viscous mush into his bowl. It certainly didn't look appetizing…but tasting it, he was pleasantly surprised. Though the spices were mild, the flavor had a strong mellow undertone that was more than palatable…if hunger had been the first thing on his mind. "How far away is Yoda? Will it take us long to get there?"

The creature was still busying himself in the kitchen. "Not far. Yoda not far. Patience. Soon you will be with him. Why wish you become Jedi, hmm?"

Luke looked back into the porridge. A good question, really; there were all sorts of reasons, but he came up with the dominant one. "Mostly because of my father, I guess."

"Ah, your father." The wizened little creature crossed in front of him and inspected the porridge. "Powerful Jedi, was he. Powerful Jedi, mmm."

Luke was annoyed, more than bewildered. How could this stranger pretend to know who his father was when even Luke didn't know? "Oh, come on. How could you know my father? You don't even know who I am… Oh, I don't even know what I'm doing here. We're wasting our time!"

The small moment of silence that followed was broken only by the steady pattering of rain on the foliage outside. To Luke's surprise, the creature turned his back upon him and spoke to an invisible third party in a heavy voice Luke hadn't heard from him before.

"I cannot teach him. The boy has no patience."

Luke heard a low, unfamiliar voice respond, matter-of-fact but gentle nevertheless. "_Then he will develop it."_

"Hmm." The creature seemed unpersuaded. "Much anger in him, like his father."

__

"He can be diverted from that course." The voice seemed to smile. _"He is young and ready to learn."_

"Hah," said the creature, gruff with disagreement. "He is not ready."

"What…" Luke swallowed. "What's going on? Is…" Then realization struck like a thunderbolt inside his skull. It didn't matter, for the moment, who Yoda was talking to. _This_ was Yoda, this creature in front of him. And the masquerade…had been a test.

Luke knew he had failed. "Yoda, I am ready. I…please!" he implored the disembodied voice. "I can be a Jedi! Please, tell him I'm rea—" Sitting up, he remembered too late how close the quarters were and knocked his head on the ceiling. He settled back down, wincing.

Yoda seemed afire with indignation. "_Ready,_ are you? What know you of ready? For eight hundred years have I trained Jedi. My own counsel will I keep on who is to be trained!" His green eyes held Luke's in the utmost gravity. "A Jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind." Yoda turned back to this mysterious third party. "This one a long time have I watched. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm?" He punctuated his words by jabbing at Luke with the end of his gimer stick. "What he was doing! Hmph. Adventure. Heh! Excitement. Heh! A Jedi craves not these things." Yoda leaned in closer. "You are reckless!"

The accusation was true. Luke burned in shame.

__

"Yet you trained me," came the voice, amused this time. _"The maverick Jedi, my reputation well-deserved. Surely you could make some leeway for this boy."_

"He is too old." Yoda stood firm. "Yes. Too old to begin the training."

"But I've learned so much," Luke put in. He couldn't give up, not _now…_

Yoda turned his large-eyed scrutiny back on Luke for a long moment. The gaze held Luke captured; these were the eyes of a sentient that had seen war and peace, love and hate, warmth and chill, an amount of experience the boy knew he could never rival. The eyes stripped him to his bone, leaving his soul feeling naked.

Yoda looked over his shoulder. "Will he finish what he begins?"

Luke knew there were things he would never be able to control, but what denoted maturity was the way one handled these things. Striving for adulthood, his expression was earnest, with the fire of his predecessors burning within. "I won't fail you. I'm not afraid."

The Jedi Master smiled, his face devoid of the barest hint of humor. "Good. You will be," he promised. _"You_ _will be."_

***

Life was still with him. Breath still swirled through his lungs. He grimaced, shifting into a better position—and gasped as something inside his neck gave a sharp _twinge._ His hand reached up to rub the spot, and only then did he notice the crash webbing that secured him to the seat in the darkened cockpit.

He blinked, his eyelids heavy, and stretched out his neck muscles as he looked up into the faint red lights of the emergency power systems.

His motor control was still lacking a bit; his hands fumbled with the clasps on the webbing, and they finally came undone, releasing him from the seat.

__

Oh, he thought fuzzily as his seat slid off the chair,_ I should have moved my posture first._

The impact wasn't too hard on his tailbone, as his arms were still draped over the armrests of the chair, pulling his shoulders behind him. He gripped the armrests and pulled himself up.

His eyes were bleary, and he rubbed at them with one hand as the other felt around in the darkness for the door release. There was something here he didn't like…no, it wasn't inside the _Falcon…_

He frowned as he scratched at his jawline. He'd forgotten to shave recently, but he'd have to look after that later. Something was alive outside the ship…several things.

"Blast," he muttered. _Where is that door control?_

It suddenly slid open, to his surprise; he hadn't touched anything. Through the unexpected burst of light, he made out the silhouette of the princess.

"You're awake," she said, her voice sounding fainter than normal. "How are you feeling?"

His eyes adjusted to the light gradually and he opened them enough to see her peering up into his face.

She almost flinched; he could feel her startlement and asked fuzzily, "What is it?"

"Your eyes…they're completely bloodshot."

"Hunh," he murmured. "I think I'll sit down, if you don't mind."

Leia saw him swaying slightly and took his arm, leading him back to the seat. "What were you doing?"

"Doing?" He tried to remember how the past few hours had gone. "Doing what?"

"When you asked for my strength." Her voice was soft, and he was grateful for it; it was much easier on his ears.

"I was being attacked by Darth Vader, and I needed some extra support," he explained. "In all likelihood, you saved my life." Obi-Wan reached out and, finding her hand, took it in his own. "I continue in my service of your family, your Highness, and not for this reason alone."

She shook her head, but didn't withdraw her hand, only squeezed his. "Please, you don't owe me anything. If it wasn't for you, the droids would never have made it off—"

He gazed back at her. "I never said I was in debt. That would be a reason, yes, but it is my duty to serve you. Some duties carry on, even after one is dead."

Leia smiled. "But you're alive again…somehow. Is that a Jedi thing?"

Obi-Wan's answer was cut off by the hideous creature that landed its grotesque sucker on the cockpit's viewport. Leia jumped up, letting out a cut-off shriek.

"It's all right," he said, calming her. "It's only a mynock."

Her eyes were wide. "Only a mynock?"

Obi-Wan rose. "We'd better let Captain Solo know. Mynocks can do considerable damage if they discover the more vulnerable parts of the ship's hull."

***

Only when Han's jaw began to ache did he realize he was clenching his teeth. Not only at the _Falcon,_ but at different lump of machinery that stood behind him.

"Sir, if I may venture an opinion—"

"I'm not really interested in your opinion, Threepio," he growled, wondering if he'd ever work up the drive to look after the protocol droid's arm, which still lay forlornly on the hold's couch seat.

Leia's voice rang out behind him as he heard footsteps approaching him. "Something's out there."

He turned around with Chewie. "Where?"

Obi-Wan still didn't look wonderfully healthy, but he held himself steadily enough. "Outside. I believe we have a mynock problem."

The last word was hardly out of his mouth when a loud banging erupted outside.

"There it is," Threepio said frantically, imagining some horrible fate for all of them. "Listen, listen!"

"I'm going out there," Han muttered, snaring a breath mask.

Leia's eyes widened. "Are you crazy?"

He shot them both a look. "I just got this bucket back together. I'm not going to let something tear it apart." With that, he hurried off to the boarding ramp, Chewie following closely.

"Ohh…then I'm going with you." Leia grabbed her own breath mask.

Obi-Wan was reaching for one too when she shook her head. "Stay in here, please. You don't look too good."

He accepted his defeat with good grace and sat down on the couch. There was something outside that was alive besides the mynocks, and he wanted to know what it was.

"I think it might be better if I stay here and guard the ship," Threepio announced, more or less to himself as Leia rushed past him. He jerked his golden head up at another noise. "Oh, no."

Obi-Wan ignored the droid and tapped into the Force again. The life-field he felt was undeniably large…almost as if…

__

Oh, he thought._ A space slug. Not good. Perhaps I should go out and warn the others…_

No, he didn't need to go out. He saw a comlink that he knew was directly connected to Han's, and reached for it.

***

"This ground sure feels strange," Leia said through her breath mask, testing the surface beneath her feet. "It doesn't feel like rock…"

Han's muffled voice came from around the _Falcon._ "There's an awful lot of moisture in here."

"I don't know." She looked around uneasily. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Yeah."

Chewbacca suddenly roared as he spotted a creature attached to the ship, waving his arm toward it."

"Watch out!" Han exclaimed, and fired.

The mynock tumbled off, stone dead. Han kicked at the carcass. "Yeah, looks like your general was right again. Mynock. Chewie, check the rest of the ship…make sure there aren't any more attached. They're chewing on the power cables."

Han's comlink squawked for his attention, and he held it up to his mask. "Yeah?"

Obi-Wan's filtered voice came through, calm but riveting. "We're inside a space slug, and I thought you might like to know."

Han's eyes widened, and he pointed the nozzle of his blaster downward to fire.

The ground rocked underneath them; Leia waved her arms wildly to keep her balance while Chewie roared from the other side of the ship.

"That explains," Han shouted. "Back inside! Now!" He heard the ship's engines powering up as he holstered his blaster, the ground rippling strangely underneath his feet.

Leia stumbled toward the boarding ramp and grabbed onto one of the pistons for dear life as Han blundered up, trying to push her up and in. "Come on, Chewie!"

The Wookiee came surprisingly quickly, his long arms flailing for balance as the ground continued to lurch underneath them.

"We're in," Han barked into the comlink as soon as the boarding ramp began to close. Through the narrowing slit of their view outside, Leia could see the damp tunnel accelerating by as she tore off her breath mask and hurried after Han and Chewie into the cockpit, tearing by a flustered protocol droid. But then, what else was new?

"The Empire is still out there," Leia protested as they rushed to the cockpit. "I don't think it's wise to—"

"No time to discuss this as a committee," Han interrupted as he slid into the cockpit.

"I am not a committee," she shouted back over the rising whine of the _Falcon._

To Obi-Wan's surprise, Han ordered, "Take her. I'm going to the back to see what else I can do."

Chewbacca slid into his usual seat, his hands moving over the control board rapidly as Han left.

Leia shook her head. "You can't make the jump to lightspeed in this asteroid field…"

"Sit," Obi-Wan admonished her. "If Captain Solo thinks we need more repairs, chances are we're not going to lightspeed yet."

Threepio clanked in just in time to see the mouth of the space slug gradually closing. "Look!"

Obi-Wan pulled hard on the throttle; they would make it if he could only coax a little more speed out of the _Falcon…_

"We're doomed!" the droid put in mournfully.

Leia stared at the giant teeth as they closed around the comparatively tiny ship. "General…"

Obi-Wan brought the _Falcon_ hard to port and sailed gracefully through the gap between a pair of closing teeth.

But their other predator still lurked outside, waiting to sink its own teeth in.


	6. Deadly Potential

Chapter Six! Feel the excitement!!

Actually, I'm doubting the overall quality of this one, as it was written by a caffeine-buzzed Auddie in the wee hours of the morning, but you can judge for yourselves, I suppose.

Shoutouts!

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Elf: I thank you again…though I doubt I'll ever reach the rank needed for to write an actual SW novel. Still, one can dream. And stay away from the garlic.

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Kynstar: Thank you…for reviewing and for letting me use your noise. It's still wonderful.

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kayladie: Very kind of you! I love looking inside character's heads, and hopefully you will be seeing much more of it. I plan to look inside every (living) main character's head at least once. And about the space slug line…I just _had_ to do that…glad you liked it.

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earthworm and NathanPostmark: You need wait no longer…for the next few minutes, anyway.

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Jedi Nifet: Yes…I can relate. I decided to include a progress meter in my bio, and anyone can check up on it now and see how far behind I am…(sigh)

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Kitkat: Well, thanks for the two cents! I'm feeling richer already! (grins happily) I wouldn't put it on that level, particularly, but thanks for the ego-boost anyway. It helps to crush that self-despising artist in me. And no worries: your cringe factor shall not register, if I can help it. Which I can, it being my fic.

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The Skywolves: Thanks! Nice to hear from another reviewer! How many of you have read this, anyway?

A note: ~~~ will be used to denote a vision sequence. Okay? Okay.

So again, for your united entertainment, Chapter the Sixth.

~~~***~~~

__

Deadly Potential

~~~***~~~

"Please…"

The voice was being unfairly unyielding...whoever it was.

"Please, who are you?"

Luke sighed heavily and threw a sizable stone into the bog, where it impacted the surface with a viscous-sounding _splosh_ near his half sunken X-wing. He had already figured out the mystery of Master Yoda, but now this other phantom presented itself… by now he'd had it up to his forehead with mysteries. _If only they could just solve themselves, and train me, I'd go and help the Alliance and we'd defeat the Empire and everything would be okay…_

He glanced over his shoulder hopefully, but saw only the dangling vines and darkly wet tree trunks rising from the scrubby vegetation. _Why did Ben send me here if I'm only going to be admonished and ignored?_ he wondered, trying to release his bad mood into another rock that sluggishly skipped a few times before sinking down into the thin sludge.

Luke rested his cheekbone on his right shoulder, his eyes scouring the ground for another likely stone.

"You must be careful; you could be throwing away something of value," came the voice, with that slightly amused undertone that had run common with it thus far.

Luke jerked his head up, not wanting to miss anything, just in case this ghost had suddenly decided to dissipate again…

But no. There he was, sitting beside Luke, smiling and holding a rock of his own.

Luke studied the gentle face in open curiousity. The light blue eyes twinkled with…with what? He couldn't be sure. It seemed like a mix of mischief, love, wisdom, austerity, and serenity all at the same time…

"Now," said the bluish apparition, "we must focus on what you really want. Is your desire to know _who_ I am more centered around your desire to know _why_ I am here?"

"I suppose," Luke admitted. "I'd also like to know why _I_ am here."

The ghost's lingering smile grew again as he put the phantom-like rock down on the ground. "Yes. What does the Force want with you? Who is Luke Skywalker to the galaxy and the Force? And—" He leaned in, close enough that had he been alive, Luke would have felt a warm breath on his cheek. "what should you choose to do about it?"

Luke scowled, forgetting for a moment that he was conversing with a dead man. "Could you at least give me your name, so I won't have to shout 'hey, you' every time I want to talk with you?"

The stranger's smile still lingered. "I will know when you wish to talk with me. Some times it will be appropriate for my appearance; others, not. Sometimes I will initiate the conversation. But…" His eyebrows rose. "I gave my word to one you know that I would tell you who I am."

Luke waited expectantly as the stranger assumed a meditative position. "So…who are you?"

He opened one eye, the only one from Luke's perspective as he turned to a profile. "Close your eyes, and open your mind."

The young man obeyed, shutting his eyelids tightly down and delving deep inside, making his mind as unrestricted to the Force as he could from his scarce lessons.

Through the Force, the stranger took his hand and led him to a place without time. 

~~~

Obi-Wan's words echoed, bounding off invisible walls, encroaching into the ears. "_The boy is dangerous, Master. They all sense it; why can't you?"_

Blue eyes and blue eyes and blue eyes.

The first pair belonged to the stranger beside him, a light piercing blue. They held authority, fearlessness, a deep pain, and a cautious love. These eyes spoke measures all on their own, of a mentor's crushed hopes and new trust.

The second pair Luke recognized: these belonged to Obi-Wan Kenobi, and held many of the traits of the stranger's. They had a different sort of hardness to them, a cynicism that had been washed away and replaced by heavy knowledge. He had grown too old too quickly too soon, something that could never be changed.

The third pair…the third pair startled him. A long time ago, or what seemed to be, anyhow, Luke had taken a general biology class in school and had been particularly fascinated with the study on eyes. So enthralled, in fact, that he had gone straight to the mirror at home with a power lamp and flicked it on and off, looking at the contractions and dilations of his pupils in captivated interest. He had gotten to know his irises intimately after that exercise.

How alike these eyes were to his. The same affection of color, the same wide-eyed eagerness to absorb everything they saw and never let it go…_never…_

"_…I'll even learn to stop people from dying."_

~~~

Luke's mind spiraled from the vision back to the present reality and he realized he was sitting up straight, his spine rigid, his ribs moving over his panting lungs.

The stranger was as placid as ever. "Now you see where I fit into the 'lineage', one might say. I was Obi-Wan's Master, just as he was Darth Vader's."

"Those eyes?" asked Luke, astonished. "Those belonged to Darth Vader?"

The visitor's expression turned grim. "Now you also see how little Vader differed from you when he was young. Any Force-sensitive holds the potential to become a Sith; evil is restricted to no one. The dark side exists in you, Luke. It is your choice alone how you deal with it. Fight it back, and the freedom of the light is yours. Enclose it and ignore it, and tendrils of dark will take root without your notice. Let it run rampant, and it becomes your slavemaster. _This is a lesson not easily learned._"

Luke swallowed, encasing a smooth stone he had found into the palm of his hand. It felt cool and comforting, absorbing his anxiety as he thought of the irony of the words Vader had uttered in the vision.

The stranger smiled. "Keep that one. It's not something to be thrown into the swamp."

Luke stared at him curiously once more. "But please…what's your name?"

The name was delved from memory of identity, from the definition of a man long gone but not forgotten. "Qui-Gon Jinn. And Luke—tell Obi-Wan he's still the wiser. He'll understand."

Luke nodded, storing the message away. "I will."

The stone suddenly felt warm inside the young man's hand, and he brought it up to look at it, turning it over a couple of times. It seemed almost to glow…

When Luke looked back up, Master Jinn had disappeared.

"Hmph. An eccentricity, he had."

Startled, Luke turned to see Master Yoda approaching, leaning heavily on his gimer stick. "An eccentricity?"

"Always collecting stones, he was. On missions to different worlds, he and Obi-Wan went, and always took a smooth pebble from the planet, they did, before returning."

Luke turned the stone over again. "How many did they collect?"

"Counted, they never were. Matters, it does not; all were destroyed."

Luke looked back up in horror. "What? How? Did the Jedi's home get proton-torpedoed, or something?"

"Hah! What power has a torpedo next to the Force, hmm?" Yoda jabbed out with his gimer stick. "Never a home had the Jedi; learn that soon, you will. Now, continue with your training I will. Come."

Luke looked down on the pebbled shore before following his teacher; the phantom rock was still there.

***

Han's searching eyes pried through the tangled mass of wires as his fingers probed through.

__

Aha. What have we here? Triumphantly, he joined a couple of snapped ends together, and immediately received a sizable shock of electricity.

__

Oops. Wrong ones.

Trying to ignore the pain and the rising smell of singed flesh, Han braced himself as the _Falcon_ shifted underneath him and looked again. _Wait a minute…I know what's wrong,_ he mused to himself as he surveyed a particular bunch of wiring, and attacked it eagerly.

***

A veritable cloud of TIE fighters surrounded and preceded the eight-kilometer length of the _Executor._

Inside the hulking ship, the level of activity was comparable; officers of all ranks bustled around importantly in the bridge, many others hunched over computers, working furiously.

No one wanted to be responsible for losing the _Millennium Falcon._

The crew's driving fear manifested in the tall, darkly clad figure that slowly paced in front of a motley arrangement of species, who had never learned or needed to stand at attention.

Admiral Piett was disgusted by the group but turned away to hide his words to the first controller he stood by. "Bounty hunters. We don't need that scum."

"Yes, sir." Unperturbed, the controller worked on.

"Those Rebels won't escape us," muttered Piett, half to himself. He was less than eager, however, to share his sentiments with Darth Vader, who evidently disagreed with him.

__

Better smelly help than none at all, I suppose, the admiral thought to himself, but his brief woolgathering was interrupted by the second controller.

"Sir, we have a priority signal from the Star Destroyer _Avenger._"

"Right," Piett acknowledged, heading for the stairs that would take him up out of this sunken pit of machinery.

The array of creatures consisted of some of the most notorious bounty hunters in the known galaxy. There was Bossk, the Trandoshan; Vader wasn't staking much on him, since the reptile was known to have his bloodlust cloud his reasoning. Zuckuss stood there also, an insectoid with breathing tubes coming up the front of his suit. Dengar, a battle-scarred, mangy-looking human, managed to look dangerous enough despite his otherwise dingy appearance. IG-88 was one of the ill batch of assassin droids that had butchered their makers just after their first activation, and his cold logic won him many the head prize. Finally, there was Boba Fett, recognizable to almost any criminal and non-criminal alike, in the shadier sections of the galaxy especially. His reputation was well-deserved, and Vader thought it most likely that Fett would be the first one to catch up to Captain Solo. Fett had the logic and the edge of battle that were so necessary in his trade…plus, he had hunted Solo before.

All these creatures needed was a little motivation to get them going: in the form of promised credits.

"…There will be a substantial reward for the one who finds the _Millennium Falcon._ You are free to use any methods necessary, but I want them alive." Vader stopped in front of Fett pointedly. "No disintegrations."

"As you wish," came the tracker's flat filtered voice.

At that moment, Piett suddenly appeared beside the Sith lord, his excitement smothered but still recognizable. "Lord Vader! My lord…we have them."

***

Their flight was smoother than any others Leia had ever taken through an asteroid field…though all her rides under that category now totaled at two.

Obi-Wan's concentration was intense, sweat beading on his forehead as he glided past deadly obstacles, sometimes passing easily, sometimes narrowly missing a collision. But at the great speed they were traveling, both Leia and Chewbacca marveled that they had made it alive so far. Even Han _never_ would have tried to maneuver here at such a velocity, and it was probably a good thing he wasn't in the cockpit right now, seeing how the general looked to be risking his baby.

Neither could yet know what measures the Force spoke to Obi-Wan. It filled his mind, showing him the most likely path and guiding the hands that firmly gripped the pilot's controls.

Leia sighed in relief as they burst out, leaving the deadly field behind. It was one thing to dodge asteroids, but dodging asteroids with Imperials on your tail was nerve-wracking at the absolute least. "Well," she said, "now all we have to worry about are the Imperials."

"Pinch me," Obi-Wan said under his breath, more for the sake of lightening the atmosphere than providing satire. They already had the captain for that.

Several kilometers out from the asteroid belt, he veered to follow a path that ran parallel to the belt while the Star Destroyer _Avenger_ loomed up behind them.

Chewbacca barked as proximity warnings erupted from various screens.

Han burst into the cockpit. "Okay, let's give it a shot!"

Obi-Wan easily slipped back into one of the secondary chairs, giving Han the pilot's seat. "Keep the rear deflector shields up; it won't be long before the Destroyer comes within range."

"Not after this, they won't. Ready for lightspeed?" Han reached for the throttle. "One…two…three!"

A distinctive pitched whine throbbed somewhere in the guts of the ship as the stars remained stubbornly fixed.

Chewbacca growled angrily.

Han yanked back on the throttle again, his eyes wide. "The transfer circuits are working… It's not my fault!"

Chewie whined, agitated, as the ship rocked under the sudden enemy fire.

"No lightspeed?" Leia sounded as if she had expected something to go wrong.

"It's not my fault," Han repeated, bewildered.

Obi-Wan spotted a screen flashing. "Our main rear shielding is gone."

The Jedi didn't need to go into elaborate detail for Han to figure out what would all happen to them if one more direct hit came through. The captain's decision was made in a moment, and he squared his jaw.

Chewie, Leia, and Obi-Wan saw it, and simultaneously thought, _Uh-oh._

"Turn her around."

Chewbacca yowled in protest.

"I said turn her around!" Han snarled. "I'm going to put all power in the front shield."

Leia's heart sank; maybe he was even crazier than she had thought. "You're going to _attack them?!_"

"But sir," piped up Threepio, who had wisely remained silent until he could no more, "the odds of surviving a direct assault on an Imperial Star Destroyer—"

"Shut up!" Leia snapped, barely turning her head to address the droid properly.

Thoroughly chastened, Threepio stood in utter silence.

***

The _Avenger's_ Captain Needa stared incredulously at the little freighter as it steeply banked for a full turnabout, heading directly for the bridge in which the captain was standing. As it raced up close to the hull, Needa said, "They're moving to attack position. Shields up!" _Is the pilot going to _ram_ us?_ he wondered, ducking with his men as the _Falcon_ barely missed the bridge window, whizzing out of sight.

"Track them," ordered Needa. "They may come around for another pass."

The tracking officer looked up in confusion. "Captain Needa, the ship no longer appears on our scopes."

__

Impossible, Needa thought, an inkling of icy fear growing in him. "They can't have disappeared. No ship that small has a cloaking device."

"Well, there's no trace of them, sir."

Then the communications officer piped up. "Captain, Lord Vader demands an update on the pursuit."

Needa remembered a vile curse he had picked up at the Academy. It seemed appropriate for the situation; there was no denying he was already a dead man. He drew a breath. "Get a shuttle ready. I shall assume full responsibility for losing them, and apologize to Lord Vader. Meanwhile, continue to scan the area."

"Yes, Captain Needa."

Needa knew that if he came back alive, his brave action would capture the loyalty of his men even further…but that was a considerably big _if._

***

Luke remembered running down the ravines and climbing rocks on Tatooine. The climate, though hot, was dry, and his sweat would always evaporate quickly. The heat would have been much more oppressive for someone who hadn't lived on the desert planet virtually all his life.

But here on Dagobah, the humidity was suffocating to Luke, refusing to absorb his perspiration. His skin was slick with sweat, making it more difficult to grab onto the vine and swing his way across an opening. Plus there was the added weight of Master Yoda, who was strapped to his back like a Tusken child would have been to its mother. The Jedi Master watched Luke's movements as the young man climbed up another vine, flipped over in mid-air, pranced quickly through a tangle of roots and avoided heavy patches of fog.

Yoda could feel his student steadily growing weary. "Run," he encouraged. "Yes. A Jedi's strength flows from the Force. But beware of the dark side. Anger…fear…aggression. The dark side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny; consume you it will, as it did Obi-Wan's apprentice."

Luke halted in a clearing, hunched over, catching his breath. "Vader," he remembered. "Is the dark side stronger?"

Yoda's answer was sure and immediate. "No…no. Quicker, easier, more seductive."

__

That's some good news, anyway, Luke thought. "But how am I to know the good side from the bad?"

"You will know, when you are calm, at peace. Passive. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack."

Luke was puzzled. "But tell me why I can't—"

"No," Yoda interrupted. "No, there is no _why_. Nothing more will I teach you today. Clear your mind of questions. Mmm. Mmmmm."

Luke had nearly caught his breath, and he let Yoda down to the ground before pulling his shirt off a nearby branch, hearing Artoo beep in the distance. Something was making him feel cool, all of a sudden.

He turned to see a huge dead tree, the base forming a dark open hole. The roots themselves added to the twisted feeling that emanated from the cave.

Luke knew that was where the chilling feeling was coming from. "There's something not right here."

Master Yoda prodded at the ground with his gimer stick from his seat on a nearby fallen log. "That place…is strong with the dark side of the Force. A domain of evil, it is. In you must go."

"What's in there?" Luke asked.

Yoda rose his head, gazing at his student with large solemn eyes. "Only what you take with you. Your weapons…" he added as Luke warily picked up his belt, "you will not need them."

But the sinister cave overruled Yoda's advice, and Luke strapped the weapon belt on, heading into the opening.

The light was dim, but to his surprise he could make out the straight-edged silhouette of duracrete. _Some_one had lived here, once. He couldn't imagine who would wish to make such a place their home, though.

A lizard croaked at him as he passed, its tongue flickering out to smell the air that hung with a heavy organic smell, reminiscent of rotting vegetation.

Luke pushed in deeper; the cave grew darker. His pupils widened to accommodate for the dimming light as a heavy quietness blanketed him.

The world turned strange, then. Time slowed to perhaps half its speed as a loud mechanical hiss reached his ears…Darth Vader rounded a bend to confront Luke.

Fear shot through the youth and he snapped his lightsaber to life, only realizing now that he had come in with it in his hand. _How did Vader get here?_ Luke wondered.

The red blade followed the blue up, the two colors casting an eerie glow that seemed more shadow than light.

Luke felt his fear, and it manifested into a swing at his hated enemy. The one with the blood of billions on his gloved hands. The one who had destroyed Leia's home planet. The one who had killed Ben, and his own father.

The fight was brief. Luke soon found an entrance and swept up at Vader's neck, severing the encased head, which flew off as if it had a life of its own and rolled to a stop on the ground, face-up.

Luke could hear the pounding of his heart booming loudly in his ears as he brought his saber up past his face…and the front of the mask exploded.

Terrified, Luke blanched, almost dropping his lightsaber. It was _his_ face inside that mask…

Then, as the head and the body faded away, he realized it had all been a vision…a horribly realistic one, but a vision nonetheless.

The meaning was not lost on Luke.

__

"Now you also see how little Vader differed from you when he was young…" 

"Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny."

"Any Force-sensitive holds the potential to become a Sith; evil is restricted to no one_."_

***

A circle was drawn, and lapped over by another. And another. And another.

The gimer stick dug into the sandy dirt, drawing circles.

Yoda had been the supervisor of many circles. Many had trained under him, and died of battle or illness or even old age. He had seen countless rings spin before him, and become wiped away for new rings.

This was just another new circle.

This was just the momentous end of the beginning. Another contradiction, so it seemed. Circles had no ends; they had no beginnings. And yet they had to start somewhere.

A circle only became a circle when the stick ended where it had begun.

***

__

Excerpt from **Traitor** by Matthew Stover:

"'A lightsaber is an interesting weapon,' Vergere said conversationally. 'A blade unique in the history of warfare. A paradox, not unlike the Jedi who wield it: those peaceful warriors, who kill in the service of life. Have you ever noticed? The blade is _round._ It has no edge. But it is a lightsaber—which means it is nothing _but_ edge. Curious, yes? Symbolic, one might say.'"

***

When Luke stumbled out, Yoda was still sitting there on the log, staring at him tranquilly.

"Now," said Yoda, "is not the time to ask _why._ The time, it is, to ask _what if._"

***

__

What if?

The simply convoluted question stayed in Luke's mind for the rest of the day, consistently staying with him at the back of his mind.

__

What if?

Now he was upside-down, one hand straining for strength and balance. His other hand was in the air, drifting about to keep the balance and occasionally jerking, only seldom staying still.

He had to ignore the rush of blood that came down to his brain. He had to focus, to put the third and smallest rock atop its two larger brothers.

"Use the Force," Yoda murmured, perched on his foot, the one that managed to stay steady. Luke had almost forgotten he was up there. "Yes." The quiet gravelly voice drifted down to his ears.

Artoo's frantic warbling, however, intruded much more caustically than Yoda's voice, and Luke lost his concentration and his balance at the same time, falling over.

Yoda's eyes widened as his perch suddenly disappeared, and shouted, "Concentrate!" as he jumped away just in time.

Irritated, Luke looked over at Artoo once he had recovered himself.

Artoo chirped wildly, trundling off to the edge of the bog. Luke quickly followed after him, Yoda coming up behind.

Only the tip of the X-wing was visible now as the swamp let up a few noxious bubbles.

"Oh, no," groaned Luke, imagining himself to be stuck in this mudhole for the rest of his life. "We'll never get it out now."

Annoyed, Yoda stamped his foot. "So certain are you. Always with you, it cannot be done. Hear you nothing that I say?"

Luke shook his head and gestured out at the sunken fighter. "Master, moving stones around is one thing. This…is totally different."

"No!" Yoda was unbending. "No different! Only different in your mind. You must unlearn what you have learned."

Luke sighed. "All right, I'll give it a try…"

"No! Try not! Do…or do not. There is no try."

Nodding, Luke stretched out his hand, closing his eyes, focusing, picturing the X-wing.

Artoo twittered in amazement as the S-foil began to slide out of the swamp, slowly being drawn out with an unseen hand…then gave out a mournful warble as Luke's control dissipated and the X-wing slipped out of sight.

Panting, Luke dropped down to seat himself on the ground. "I can't…it's too big."

"Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you? Hm?"

Luke could only shake his head.

"And well you should not. For my ally is the Force. And a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us, binds us. Luminous beings are we…" Yoda reached out and pinched Luke's bare shoulder. "…not this crude matter. You must feel the Force around you." He gestured at their surroundings. "Here, between you…me…the tree…the rock…everywhere! Yes, even between the land…and the ship."

Luke stood, letting in a bitter edge to his voice. "You want the impossible."

Yoda felt the sour taste of disappointment, and turned away as Luke got up and left him. Now there was one thing left for him to do to bring Luke back.

Artoo burbled in mechanical incomprehension as the X-wing majestically rose out of the swamp, passing by to land on solid ground, covered in weeds.

Luke, attracted by Artoo's noisemaking, came up to brush his hand against the nose of his fighter, and turned to Yoda in wonder. "I…I don't believe it."

"That," said Yoda firmly…sadly… "is why you fail."

***

Rest did not come to Luke as he sat cross-legged by his X-wing. If he had been five years younger, a tear would have come trickling down his face. But he sat as stoically as he could, if only to try to prove to _himself_ that he could do it, that he could do something.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a slight movement, and turned to see Qui-Gon standing a few meters away.

The spectral Jedi tossed his stone up in the air, catching it with the same hand. "Yoda did not say you _had_ failed. He said only that you fail up to this point. It is not irreversible."

"It doesn't feel like I can make much good out of anything, right now," Luke bit out.

Qui-Gon regarded him, a bit humorously. "Everyone is, at one point in their life, a failure. The question remains; what are you going to make of it? Will you learn from your mistake, or will the cave vision come to pass?"

Luke glared at him suddenly. "Never. I never want anything to do with the dark side."

The apparition nodded solemnly. "Remember those words well, young Skywalker."

***

The _Avenger_ waited hopelessly for her captain to return.

"Apology accepted, Captain Needa," Vader said dispassionately, watching his latest victim slump to the floor.

Needa, clutching desperately at his throat, was not quite dead. In Vader's opinion, the man hadn't quite outlived his usefulness, but just needed to be taught an unforgettable lesson.

That, and he would be demoted by several ranks. But it would take some time for him to fully recover.

Vader gestured for a couple of troopers to drag off the motionless form, then saw Admiral Piett with two others hurrying up to him.

"Lord Vader," Piett said brusquely, "our ships have completed their scan of the area and found nothing. If the _Millennium Falcon_ went into lightspeed, it'll be on the other side of the galaxy by now."

"Alert all commands," Vader rumbled. "Calculate every possible destination along their last known trajectory."

"Yes, my lord," Piett promised nervously. "We'll find them."

"Don't fail me again, Admiral," Vader warned before leaving Piett.

The admiral swallowed uneasily, and turned to an aide. "Alert all commands. Deploy the fleet."

***

It had been long enough, Threepio figured. He had to drive some sense into these scatterbrained humans. "Captain Solo, this time you have gone too far."

Chewbacca turned his head to yowl savagely at the droid.

"No, I will not be quiet, Chewbacca. Why doesn't anyone listen to me?"

Han ignored Threepio and pointed outside the crammed cockpit, addressing Chewie. "The fleet is beginning to break up. Go back and stand by the manual release for the landing claw."

Chewbacca barked in acknowledgement and wormed his way through the rest of the cockpit's occupants, and out the door.

"I really don't see how that's going to help," Threepio continued. "Surrender is a perfectly acceptable alternative in extreme circumstances. The Empire may be gracious enough—"

Leia cut off the droid's ceaseless prattle by a simple flick of his power switch, and the golden form slumped over.

"Thank you," muttered Han.

She leaned over to look around his seat at the board. "What did you have in mind for your next move?"

"Well, if they follow standard Imperial procedure, they'll dump their garbage before they go to lightspeed, then we just float away."

"With the rest of the garbage." Leia thought better of adding the comment, _This thing will fit in nicely._ "Then what?"

"Then we've got to find a safe port somewhere around here. Got any ideas?"

"No," Leia said as Han called up a diagram of the local area. "Where are we?"

"The Anoat system," replied Han, studying the map.

Obi-Wan stirred in his seat. He'd managed to ward off Vader's searching senses; they were still hidden. "There were no ports in the Anoat system, when last I checked."

Leia nodded. "There's not much else there, either."

"No…well wait," said Han, leaning forward, a faint grin curling the edge of his mouth. "This is interesting. Lando."

Leia squinted at the screen. "Lando system?"

Han shook his head at the idea. "Lando's not a system, he's a man. Lando Calrissian. He's a card player, gambler, scoundrel. You'd like him."

"Thanks," Leia replied sardonically.

Obi-Wan wisely decided not to ask.

"Bespin," Han continued. "It's pretty far, but I think we can make it."

Leia read off the screen. "A mining colony?"

"Yeah, a tibanna gas mine." Han leaned back in his chair, appearing to contemplate the screen. "Lando conned somebody out of it. We go back a long way, Lando and me."

Leia thought to ask the crucial question, the one that prevailed in the minds of every Rebellion leader. "Can you trust him?"

"No. But he has no love for the Empire, I can tell you that." Han reached out and tapped the screen's bluish light off.

"The fleet's deploying," observed Obi-Wan; his presence had been nearly forgotten by Han and Leia.

Han leaned to the intercom. "Here we go, Chewie. Stand by…" Only the barest second passed. "Detach!"

A metallic groaning sounded out beneath them as their former perch seemed to roll away. Compared to the _Avenger,_ the _Falcon_ was a mere fleck of metal, and it drifted away as such, into the outpouring junk that trailed from the stern opening in the Star Destroyer.

***

Vader had been right; mere logic would not have won out, nor a bloodthirsty scenting nose. A formidably resourceful mind had locked on, and would not let go until he had received what the Sith had promised.

Boba Fett quickly analyzed the _Falcon's_ condition as it began blasting off, and followed it discreetly for a short distance. Solo would have already gone into lightspeed at this point; the hyperdrive had to be damaged. The freighter's sublight engines, however, were in the best condition possible; they were able to reach higher speeds than Fett's _Slave I_ engines when in top condition, something the bounty hunter would be able to remedy after cashing in his next head prices. Though now it didn't matter how fast the _Falcon's_ sublights were; anything with hyperspace capability would be able to beat it to Bespin by a good eight hours, starting at the same point and time.

But there was still the Jedi to reckon for. The bounty hunters had been warned that there was a Master aboard, fully capable of battle. It was… _fortunate…_ that Fett had thought to bring along a little friend to help him in this. He hoped the ysalamiri was as effective as he'd heard from his sources, for their sake. If he survived the encounter, anyhow.

Now he calculated the trajectory, remembering that not too far away lay the gaseous planet Bespin, its only settlement owned by a man called Lando Calrissian, an acquaintance of Solo. They had actually saved each other's lives directly and indirectly more than once, including from encounters with Fett himself.

Well. Fett _had_ dealt with Calrissian before. Even though the man was a gambler and generally thought to be spineless when it came to physical confrontation, Fett recalled Calrissian had little qualms for standing up for something when it meant credits, or even the life of a friend. Fett would just have to see if that quality had lasted these years.

"_Executor, _this is _Slave I."_

***

It was going to be a long trip. Han sauntered back to the bunks to check on the woman he'd tranquilized a little while ago, to make sure she was properly fitted for the journey. He had no intentions of letting the last episode repeat itself.

The door slid open under his command, and he stared in incomprehension. She wasn't lying on the bunk he had put her on…in fact, she wasn't in sight.

"What the hell…" he muttered, ducking in to check. He kicked himself for that later.

Han was promptly grabbed by the collar, aggressively shoved stomach-down to the floor, and sat upon; he went still at the sound of metal being bared, and felt a point come to rest at the base of his skull as the door hissed shut.

"You may be the captain," growled a voice, undoubtedly the woman's, "but that doesn't mean you're in charge."

"We can talk this out, right?" he grunted, trying desperately to recall a pressure point that he could reach from his ungainly position.

The knife pressed harder, almost enough to draw blood. "You'd better hope we can."

Han wondered if Chewie was close enough to do something…maybe he could kick up and get her in the back…no, that would drive her forward along with the knife…he could make a snatch for his blaster…that wouldn't work, either; her leg was right over the holster, blocking any grab he might make…plus she was seated just in the right position to render any sudden moves slow and ineffective.

Then the door shot open, and a familiar voice barked, "Mara!"

She didn't move, just flicked her eyes up at Obi-Wan coolly. "Where's the fire, Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan didn't have to be a Jedi to see the bloody murder in her eyes. "Get up. We can solve this another way."

"No," she cooed, the most hair-raising sound Han had ever heard come from a human, "I don't think so. This time I'm solving it _my_ way."

"Mara," he said, "I don't want to have to hurt you—"

She laughed, a beautifully careless sound, flicking the knife indiscreetly so that it nicked the back of Han's neck, making a drop of crimson sprout. "Wrong again, Kenobi. This time you won't do anything, because he's already mine." She swiftly drew back her knife hand.

Obi-Wan realized then that she wasn't aiming for Han yet. The blade flew toward him, and he ducked, yanking it out of its path.

Mara brandished another and smiled gleefully as it flashed downward, her wrist to be intercepted by Obi-Wan's neatly placed kick that continued on to lay her out upon the floor.

Han scrambled up, his blaster suddenly in his hand, drawing a bead on his attacker. As Mara leapt up, he fired.

The blue wave of a stun beam swept over her and she collapsed numbly.

Han's eyes were wide as he holstered his blaster and looked down at his rescuer. "What took you so long?"

"You might want to sit," advised Obi-Wan. "Some of her knives have a temporary paralysis poison on the tip."

"Of course they would," Han snarled, his knees buckling.

Obi-Wan quickly caught him and half-dragged him over to the bunk, ignoring Han's caustic behavior. He had expected his presence to be resented; after all, Han's life had just been saved by someone the captain had never really liked anyway. That added to his general personality combined for a sour effect. It was just the way things worked.

"How long?" Han managed, feeling the numbness spread alarmingly down his spinal cord.

"You'll be up in five minutes," Obi-Wan assured him. "This sort of soporific is only meant to deaden an opponent's motion for an easier kill. You got a slower acting concoction, I suppose, in all likelihood meant for torture."

"Thanks for savin' my ass," Han mused as if drunk, "though I guess it was th' least y'could do."

Obi-Wan couldn't resist a small grin as he pushed Han farther onto the bunk. "What did you give her earlier?"

"'Alf a vial o' anesthetic," Han drawled, barely able to enunciate clearly by now, and cursed. "It shoulda knocked 'er out f' three hours…can't figure out 'ow sh' got up s' soon…"

Obi-Wan spotted the medkit still lying just outside the door, and looked inside it. Finding the half-empty vial still attached to the syringe, he inspected it. "Seems to me you used the weakest formula in the kit."

Han cursed again, trying to swallow his saliva before he started drooling. "Thass my luck. Give 'er the rest of it, 'n' clip 'er to th' bunk."

***

She knew Kenobi would be there when she awoke; it was no great feat to figure that out. He would be there by the bedside or wherever else she had been put, patiently waiting to reason with her as diplomatically as possible.

What she hadn't figured on was the additional company. She opened her eyes to stare down the nozzle of a blaster.

"Even the people who aren't always in charge can still make rules," Han growled at her, with an absolute lack of tact.

__

Well, she thought, glaring up at him malevolently, _blast diplomacy._

Then came Kenobi's calm voice, irrevocably smoothing any raised fur. "Mara, please understand. You're here because there was nowhere else for you to go."

She fixed her still-blazing green eyes on him. "That doesn't mean I have to appreciate it."

__

Or anyone else, Han added silently, lowering the blaster but keeping an eye on her. Who knew; she might feel inclined to rip out the bunk post, after that little warm-up with Threepio's arm.

Kenobi's eyebrows seemed to be lifted painfully high, widening his already earnest eyes. Mara had never seen a more open expression. "Even if there was somewhere else to go, this would still be the best. Don't you see, Mara? I need you."

She couldn't help snorting cynically. "_You_ need me? No, you mean the Order needs Jedi. Don't deny it; you're looking for a trainee, not an Emperor's Hand."

That snapped Han's blaster back up very quickly. "So," he snapped at Obi-Wan, "you didn't think life in general was enough of a challenge on its own?"

Obi-Wan shook his head wearily. "She's not a Hand anymore. Mara, please consider. I'm offering to remedy the situation because I'm accountable for your… setback."

"Damn right, you are," she snarled. "And if I don't like your compensation, I think I'm going to spread the love."

~~~***~~~


	7. The Reckoning

Chapter seven is FINALLY up!!!

Haha. I'm so funny. Feel the incredible humor.

I've had some extra time on my hands, it being Easter weekend and all, so I thought I'd post really early, this time. I bet some of you haven't even had time to review my last chapter…but oh well. Now you have another chapter to read! Aren't you happy?

Yes, I thought so.

Shoutouts (so far):

****

Elf and NathanPostmark: Thanks again…you two are part of the (small but slowly growing) group that keeps this coming. (^^)

****

Kynstar: Yeah…you gotta love the guy, sometimes. I'm obviously more of an Obi-Wan fan, but Qui-Gon really stands out for me, too.

****

Jeff10: Hey! I'm touched you added me to your favs. Hope you're liking the story by the time you reach this chappie.

Well, since I haven't given some people time to review, I might update the shoutouts at a later time. The next chapter might take quite a while, so be prepared to hang.

~~~***~~~

__

The Reckoning

~~~***~~~

Once again, the world turned upside-down. It wasn't so bad this time; Luke had both hands on the ground to stand upon, and Yoda was sitting nearby instead of poised on his sole. But even if the circumstances had repeated themselves, Luke was paying less attention to his strain and giving more of himself to his concentration. His mental strength was building rapidly, and he was able to access the Force more readily than before, though distractions still presented a problem.

Yoda watched his pupil as storage crates rose, defiant of Dagobah's gravitational pull. Artoo twittered, still puzzled at such happenings; his occasional beeps turned into frenetic warbles as he, too, escalated into the humid air.

"Concentrate." Yoda's voice was tuned down once more to avoid becoming a hindrance. "Feel the Force flow. Yes. Good. Calm, yes. Through the Force, things you will see. Other places. The future…the past. Old friends long gone."

As if cued, Luke's perception wavered strangely as he kept his eyes tightly shut. Scenes unfolded before his mind's eye, consisting of yet so much more than a picture.

Han, strapped rigidly to a wicked-looking machine, screaming in obstinate agony. The sound frightened Luke more than anything, tearing into his soul. He'd never heard Han scream; in fact, he doubted Han had ever screamed like that in his life.

And Leia; they had put her in an adjacent room, administering some physical pain but mostly making her listen to Han. It hurt her worse than anything they could physically do to her. She was raving, infuriated because of her helplessness to stop his agony.

Vader loomed over them both.

The images lasted less than a second, but it was enough to throw him out of his concentration. He heard himself gasping, "Han…Leia!" before tumbling to the ground.

Artoo and the crates followed suit, the former burbling dazedly as he pulled himself up.

But the image that came now was worst of all. In it, the object of Imperial torment was receiving one-hundred-fold what both Han and Leia had been made to take. Darth Vader was performing the torture himself, this time, digging deep and ripping apart a heavily drugged but still perceptive Jedi's mind, slowly wrenching off piece by piece until nothing remained…

Luke thought that Ben's scream would haunt him for the rest of his days. He managed to sit up, unable to stop shaking. Ben was _dying…_

Yoda seemed unaware, shaking his head. "Control, control. You must learn control!"

It was, however, the last thing on Luke's mind as he reviewed the snatches of vision between the three tortures. "I saw…I saw a city in the clouds."

"Mmm." Yoda was grave. Perhaps he hadn't been oblivious to Luke's pain, after all. "Friends you have there."

"They were in pain," Luke choked out, unable to suppress the cries ringing inside his skull.

"It is the future you see."

"Future?" Maybe, just maybe, Luke could stop it, but if he couldn't… "Will they die?"

Yoda's solemn eyes shut as he attempted to peer ahead into the many different paths that forked from the one they were on. "Difficult to see. Always in motion, is the future."

Luke could only see one solution. "I've got to go to them."

"Decide you must, how to serve them best," Yoda's words rang out as Luke turned. "If you leave now, help them you could…but you would destroy all for which they have fought and suffered."

For Yoda knew what would happen were Luke to leave before his training was complete. He was not ready to engage in battle with Vader at this point, and would surely be lost to the Sith lord, one way or another.

Luke was rooted by his Master's words, and nodded sadly.

***

It wasn't fair. He was finally leading a legitimate, responsible life, and now it came crashing down on him.

He watched the ranks of stormtroopers march in, a seemingly endless armored line. He knew now why the Empire was here; Han was coming, with one of the major leaders of the Rebellion in tow. He wondered when—and _why_—Han had made the decision to cash in with the Alliance. It didn't offer much job security…although that model idea of insurance suddenly seemed to be lacking even here.

Lando was acutely aware of the mechanical breathing that hissed in and out just behind him and to his left. Darth Vader wanted more than just that Alliance leader; apparently this entire operation was a trap for someone called Skywalker. And Vader had warned Calrissian that if he didn't get his prize, the administrator would be helping to look.

Lando had worked up the nerve to protest against this; he had his city to look after.

Vader's response had been immediate; in that scenario, there would be no Cloud City to administrate. Lando had to make a choice between his friend, or his people.

It was a choice that no one should have been forced to make, but Lando knew he had, in that case, no honorable alternative. When it came to lives, honor now seemed to mean everything.

***

Mara stretched out as comfortably as she could with her wrist still chained to the bunk post. It was only a matter of time before Kenobi confronted her again; he had made off with her weapons belt and had seemed bent on exploring it.

She smiled as the door hissed open. "You found it."

His puzzlement faded as he held up the incomplete lightsaber. "So you knew it was mine."

"Deductive reasoning, Kenobi. How stupid do you think I am?" She rolled onto her side to face him. "It was left in the weaponry storage after you were killed. A pity the thing's useless. All it's lacking are the crystals."

It was Kenobi's turn to smile as he reached into his belt pouch and produced a pair of glimmering stones. "I hope you don't mind. They were in a back corner, behind those T64 grenades you never liked. You seemed to have overlooked them."

Mara shrugged off the loss. "It's yours, anyway."

He stepped inside and sat down on the adjacent bunk, setting to work on opening the hilt. "We'll have to look after making you one, when the time comes."

She snorted. "You seem fairly confident about that."

He only smiled quietly as the hilt came open. Everything was in place; the primary crystal mount was often the first thing to be sabotaged, but it was still in perfect condition. He fitted in the blue primary crystal neatly and dropped the smaller focusing crystal in place. "We'd better hope my fine adjustment abilities haven't waned over the years."

"Why? Tell me, Kenobi, will it explode?" she asked sarcastically. Mara hadn't taken the time to examine the formerly useless lightsaber thoroughly, though she'd been planning to.

"I'd be vaporized, and you're well within the kill radius," he answered simply, as if telling her his favorite color, focusing intently as his fingers made impossibly minute adjustments that were only feasible for a Force-user, feeling out the path the energy would take.

Mara shook her head. "Then turn it on inside the cargo bay, not here."

"What," he said, "don't you trust me?"

"I don't think that deserves an answer," she retorted as he snapped the casing back on.

He smiled in complete assurance, held the assembled lightsaber aloft, and pressed his thumb down on the trigger.

The blue shaft shot out for the first time in three years, throbbing steadily.

Obi-Wan nodded in satisfaction and released the trigger. "I wouldn't have been so reckless as to risk our lives; we're both too young to die."

"In your case, one can't help but wonder." Mara regarded the lightsaber with a rare open curiosity. "Where do the crystals come from?"

"Ilum." Obi-Wan clipped the lightsaber onto his belt, where it stayed as if a part of him. "There's almost nothing to the planet except its crystal caverns. The Force speaks richly inside them. It's quite the experience." He smiled in fond recollection. "The Masters tried to have every Padawan visit at least once, and mine their own crystals for the construction of their first lightsaber."

She raised an eyebrow. "Yours is that old?"

"Oh, no. I lost my first one to a shaft in a Naboo generator station. My second was destroyed on a mission with my Padawan, and my third and fourth were taken from me when I was held captive, the second time as a prisoner of war during my days as a general. This, being my fifth, is of a better quality than the others." He patted the weapon.

Mara's raised eyebrow went even higher. "How many lightsabers did the average Jedi go through?"

He sighed. "I must admit to being somewhat reckless with mine at times; some Masters only went through two or three. Others, of course, reached their tenth by the time their fighting days were over, and I knew of one young Knight that had expended seventeen before she died. It also depends upon a creature's life expectancy. Master Yoda was our most venerable Council member, and had used over fifteen hundred."

She nodded. "An impressive figure. And he was how old?"

"Nearly nine hundred standard years." Obi-Wan wasn't about to reveal the fact that his Master was still alive. "It was difficult for even him to estimate how many times he'd risked his life, never mind losing his lightsaber."

The door hissed open then, and they turned to see Leia standing there in the doorway.

"We're nearing Bespin's orbit, General."

He stood, humor pinching at the corners of his eyes. "You make it sound as if you're my subordinate, your Highness. I'd appreciate it if you called me by my first name."

"Very well, Master Obi-Wan," Leia returned without hesitation. "Would you care to join us in the cockpit?"

Obi-Wan sighed, mimicking exasperation. "I will in a moment." 

As Leia left, he looked down at Mara, holding her sharp gaze for a minute. "You'd be welcome to come with us off the ship when we reach port if you don't give any trouble."

Much as Mara resented the idea of following along meekly, she desperately wanted to get some exercise and fresh air. "All right, Kenobi, it's a deal."

***

The billowing clouds of the gaseous planet were tinted rose with the sunrise. Leia hadn't seen a dawn that had left such an impression on her since Alderaan. She wasn't given much time for admiration, though.

Immediately upon their descent, a pair of dual-pod cloud cars moved on either side of them.

Obi-Wan was entering the cockpit when he heard Han say into the transmitter, "No, I don't have a landing permit. I'm trying to reach Lando Calrissian—"

The _Falcon_ shuddered under a spurt of fire.

"Whoa, wait a minute!" Han yelled. "Let me explain!"

A bland impersonal voice sounded out from the comm. "You will not deviate from your present course."

"Rather touchy, aren't they?" commented Threepio, whom Obi-Wan slid past into his usual seat.

Leia was beginning to regret their arrival. "I thought you knew this person."

Chewbacca looked at Han anxiously and wondered aloud whether Lando was still sore at them for the Ylesian stunt.

"Well, that was a long time ago," Han responded, sounding only half-certain. "I'm sure he's forgotten about that."

The dull voice blatted out from the comm unit again. "Permission granted to land on Platform three-two-seven."

"_Thank_ you." Han ended the frustrating conversation with an irritated tap of a button, and tried to reassure the other occupants of the cockpit. "There's nothing to worry about. We go way back, Lando and me."

"Who's worried?" Leia murmured, gazing ahead to the floating metropolis.

It was a moment before Obi-Wan quietly spoke up. "Mara will be accompanying us outside."

"Oh, no," Han snapped. "No. That's definitely a no."

Obi-Wan didn't like playing dirty, but he saw no alternative past Han's stubborn resolve, and put a steely undertone to his voice. He would have Mara come out; putting a little trust in her might smooth over some of her cynicism. "I will be watching her; she'll cause no trouble. Do you doubt my capability, Captain?"

The pressure built in the cockpit before Han replied with a tight jaw, "Of course not. But I'll warn you now: I'll have my blaster set to kill, this time. She'd better not try anything."

"She won't," assured Obi-Wan, hoping he was right.

***

Lando stared out the window at the approaching freighter; Vader had just left him to contemplate how he was going to perform his greeting. The Sith lord had warned him that his performance had better stand up past gambling standards; there was a fully trained Jedi among the group.

__

Great, thought Lando. _Just great. What a mess._ He wondered exactly how sensitive this Jedi would prove to be.

The _Millennium Falcon_ was docking now; Lando composed himself, nodded to his cyborg assistant, Lobot, and began to head down to the entrance.

The turbolift ride seemed to last forever. Lobot stood maddeningly still beside him; the doors finally opened and he stepped out to meet the waiting party of guards, who trailed after him outside.

A party of five stood just beyond the _Falcon's _boarding ramp, all warily staying in place except for Han, who sauntered up to his old acquaintance.

Obi-Wan had managed to convince Leia to leave Threepio on board, knowing the droid would likely prove to be more of a hindrance than a help.

Lando stood grimly, halfway between the _Falcon _and the building, his arms crossed, and growled at Han, "Why, you slimy, double-crossing, no-good swindler. You've got a lot of guts coming here, after what you pulled."

Han put on his best "who, me?" expression, almost making Lando grin. But the administrator managed to keep up his threatening front and moved closer, forming fists that he suddenly jerked up close to Han's face, making the captain flinch.

Now Lando let himself smile, throwing aside his anxiety for a fleeting moment and tightly embracing his friend. "How're you doing, you old pirate? So good to see you!"

At the _Falcon,_ Mara threw Obi-Wan a dubious glance.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "All I want you to do is tolerate this, all right?"

"Sure," she said distantly.

The conversation carried on between the old friends.

"What're you doing here?" asked Lando, still grinning.

Han gestured out toward the _Falcon._ "Ah, repairs. I thought you could help me out."

Lando widened his eyes in mock concern. "What have you done to my ship?"

"Your ship?" Han played along. "Hey, remember, you lost her to me fair and square."

Chewbacca, who had been placated by now, came striding up, howling a greeting at Lando, who grinned. "Hey, Chewbacca. Still hanging around with this loser?"

Leia, Obi-Wan, and Mara followed Chewie forward, and Lando spotted the princess.

He gave her a smile. "Hello, what have we here? Welcome. I'm Lando Calrissian, the administrator of this facility. And who might you be?"

"Leia," she said simply.

Lando's smile broadened. "Welcome, Leia." He bowed to kiss her hand, and rose to meet a hardened pair of malachite eyes. "And might I have the pleasure of making your acquaintance?"

"Mara Jade." Her look clearly said, _Don't even think about touching my hand, or you'll be missing one._

Lando nodded and wisely backed off. 

Han rolled his eyes. "All right, all right. You old smoothie." He took Leia by the hand and led her around Lando, whose grin hadn't completely faded from Mara's rebuff.

Then Lando turned to Obi-Wan. "One left." He offered up his hand. "And you are?"

Obi-Wan smiled politely and shook his hand. "Orlan Ytho. It's a pleasure to meet you, Administrator." _There is an undercurrent here,_ he thought, _and I don't like it._ He'd left his lightsaber in the _Falcon,_ and was beginning to wonder if he should have hidden it on him and taken it along.

Lando gestured for the whole group to follow, wondering who the Jedi was. "Please, come inside. The chill doesn't leave with the morning." He realized how fitting that statement was as it came from his mouth, and changed the subject back to Han's main concern. "What's wrong with the _Falcon?_"

"Hyperdrive," Han said, obviously annoyed. It wasn't the first time.

"I'll get my people to work on it," affirmed Lando.

Han nodded. "Good."

Lando then turned back to Leia. _The Alliance leader? Either her or the redhead, and one or the other has to be the Jedi. The kid can't be…he's only in his teens._ "You know, that ship saved my life quite a few times. She's the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy."

Obi-Wan closely probed their surroundings as they entered the building, Han and Lando chatting away amicably. The city was a pristine white, the surface and interior both pleasing to the eye…but Obi-Wan felt as if he was walking into a dark, foul cave. And there was something this Calrissian was hiding. Oh, he was undoubtedly good at it, but he wouldn't be able to stand up against the Jedi's delicately inquisitive examination.

Leia watched the carefully neutral expression Obi-Wan was wearing as they passed through the aesthetic hallways. "General—what is it?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head, deciding to let go the slip in his name, and murmured back, "It's not clear yet."

"How's the gas mine?" Han's voice floated back to their ears. "Is it paying off for you?"

"Oh, not as well as I'd like. We're a small outpost and not very self-sufficient. I've had supply problems of every kind, I've had labor difficulties…" Lando broke off at Han's grin. "What's so funny?"

"You. Listen to you—you sound like a businessman, a responsible leader." Han was finding the concept entertaining. "Who'd have thought that, huh?"

"You know," Lando said reflectively, "seeing you sure brings back a few things."

Han nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah, I'm responsible these days," Lando continued. "It's the price you pay for being successful."

Han grinned, but their laughter was cut short as Obi-Wan stepped in front of them. 

"Hey, kid…" Han began angrily, but Obi-Wan cut him off with a sharp glance before returning his gaze to Lando.

__

Sithspit, the administrator thought uneasily under those piercing blue eyes, _who is this kid, anyway?_

"Administrator," said Obi-Wan quietly, "if I may have a private word with you."

Han rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Oh, come on—"

"No, it's all right," Lando said quickly, reassuring his friend with a quick smile, and gestured for Obi-Wan to come with him into a side room he knew to be unoccupied.

No sooner had the door closed behind Lando than Obi-Wan rounded on him, his face set grimly. "Why are you leading us into a trap?"

"What are you talking about?" Lando said, as if insulted.

Obi-Wan sighed and stepped closer, peering up into Lando's hardened face. "There's no use lying to me, Administrator. There is a trap set here by Darth Vader, am I not correct?"

"You," snapped Lando, "are making up a story that might have been funny at some other time—"

"I can see past your sabacc face," Obi-Wan interrupted. "And I suggest that either you concede that you are in fact leading us into a trap and get us offplanet, or deny it and face a betrayed friend later."

Lando's anger dissolved into a hesitant fear, and he stood unsure of what exactly to say.

Obi-Wan's expression didn't waver. "Is Vader looking for a Jedi?"

There was no use lying anymore, Lando figured. "He told me there would be one in your group, but I don't think he's looking for a Jedi, specifically."

"Who does he want, then?" 

Lando said firmly, "At this rate, I'm going to lose everyone in this city. Would you have me risk their lives?"

"Believe me, Administrator, more lives than that would be at stake should Vader catch his Jedi…or the boy."

Lando suppressed a groan. "What…"

"He's all you're thinking about." Obi-Wan appeared to become weighted with trouble. "Skywalker, if my guess is right."

Lando thought he might pass out at the injustice of it all, and cursed. "You _are_ the Jedi…but how? You'd have to be far older…"

"It's a long story, Administrator, and our friends are waiting." Obi-Wan sighed resolutely. "The decision is yours to make, but I hope you will not hold me responsible for any property damage should you choose to side with Vader."

The slight humor was killed by the situation. Lando began to realize that no matter what he chose, someone was going to die.

__

I should have stuck with the casinos, he thought bitterly as he emerged from the room with his interrogator.

***

The night struck a distressing chord for Luke as he loaded the supply crates back into his X-wing.

"Luke! You must complete the training!" Yoda was never far from him, always pressing the importance of attainment.

Luke was torn. "I can't keep the vision out of my head. They're my friends—I've got to help them."

"You _must not go!_"

"But they'll die if I don't!" Luke turned to look desperately back at the little Master.

"How can you be sure?" asked Qui-Gon's voice as his image materialized nearby. "How can you presume to know their fate if even Yoda cannot see it?"

"But I can help them!" Luke pleaded. "I feel the Force!"

"It is still beyond your control," Qui-Gon said firmly. "Your resistance to the dark side will become stronger with time, but to leave now is far too risky."

Yoda leaned forward on his gimer stick. "Yes, yes. To Qui-Gon you listen. The cave. Remember your failure at the cave!"

"But I've learned so much since then." If Luke had not been clinging to a ladder, he would have thrown up his hands in frustration. "Master Yoda, I promise to return and finish what I've begun. You have my word."

"Luke, the Emperor wants you. He wants to harness your strength, to bend you to his servanthood. Your friends' suffering is merely meant to have you come to him."

"And that is why I have to go." Luke's mind was made.

Qui-Gon persisted. "Obi-Wan would not wish for you to be lost to the Emperor like he lost Darth Vader."

"He won't lose me."

"Stopped, they must be," interjected Yoda. "On this all depends. Only a fully trained Jedi Knight with the Force as his ally will conquer Vader and the Emperor. Though his help he will provide, Obi-Wan's destiny, this is not. If you end your training now, if you choose the quick and easy path, as Vader did, you will become an agent of evil."

"Patience," Qui-Gon pressed.

Luke was astonished at their seeming acceptance of what could mean the death of his friends and mentor. "And sacrifice Han…Leia…Ben?"

Yoda's mouth was set in a firm line. "If you honor what they fight for…yes."

Luke struggled for an answer.

"If you come against Vader, the fight will be yours alone," Qui-Gon said. "I will not be able to help you."

"I understand." An eerie calm came over Luke then, and he moved up the last few rungs of his ladder. "Artoo, fire up the converters."

"Remember," called Qui-Gon, "the fight is not against Vader—the fight is against hate, against the dark side."

"Strong is Vader," added Yoda. "Mind what you have learned; save you it can!"

"I will. And I'll return—I promise." The cockpit closed around Luke as the floodlights of the X-wing turned to bathe Yoda in a blue glow.

"Told you, I did," sighed Yoda, looking up as the blue shifted to the red light of the afterburners. "Reckless is he. Now, matters are worse."

"There is still Leia."

"Yes… another we need if Luke should fail. Begin to teach her soon, Obi-Wan must."

"He knows."

***

Leia stared outside the window between her rounds of the room. She'd grown increasingly restless since their arrival; there was something about Lando she didn't like. _He's hiding something,_ she decided, crossing her arms and staring out at a passing cloud car.

She had changed from her white thermal outfit into something more suitable for the climate: a simple dress that she liked wearing on less formal occasions.

Chewbacca sat anxiously on one of the white sofas in the room, her unsettled mood having rubbed off on the Wookiee.

Han came through the door then, and she turned to see his confident composure. "The ship is almost finished. Two or three more things and we're in great shape."

"The sooner, the better," she returned. "Something's going on here that I don't like. Where's the general? Where's Mara?"

"They're walking around with Lando. Wanted a tour, or something." Han shrugged. "I don't know why. It's a nice place, but all the halls begin to look the same, after a while."

"It's not that," she said, shaking her head. "This has something to do with the private conversation. Lando and General Kenobi…they're both hiding something."

He took her by the shoulders, feeling how tense her muscles were, and gently kissed her forehead. "Relax. If it's important, they'll let us know. I'll talk to Lando when he comes back."

"I don't trust Lando." Leia crossed over to sit down on the edge of the sofa close to Chewbacca.

"Well, I don't trust him either, and he is my friend." Han sat beside her. "Besides, we'll soon be gone."

She met his eyes. "And then you're as good as gone, aren't you?"

Han didn't know what to say, just considered her words until the door slid open again.

Lando entered, smiling as usual, Mara bringing up the rear. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting anything?"

Leia stood. "Where's Orlan?"

Lando's smile faded incrementally. "He said he had to get something from the _Falcon _before he came back in."

Mara read the look on Leia's face and decided to try and ease the situation. "If something had happened to him, don't you think I'd have known?"

Leia relaxed…a little.

"Will you join me for a little refreshment?" Lando asked, and looked to Han, Chewie, and Mara in turn. "Everyone's invited, of course. Don't worry," he said to Leia, smiling again, "I told your friend where we're headed."

Han rose to take Leia's arm, pointedly looking at his friend before heading out the door. Chewbacca grunted, amused, and followed them through with Mara and Lando.

Much to Han's displeasure, however, Leia ended up walking between him and Lando on the way to the "refreshment". He wasn't sure how much of an impression Lando had made on the princess yet, but he knew he'd have to be careful if Leia was still looking for someone. Chewbacca and Mara followed a short distance behind. Strangely enough, the two had stricken up a sort of impromptu understanding, and seemed to get along well.

"So you see," continued Lando, "since we're a small operation, we don't fall into the…uh…jurisdiction of the Empire."

"So you're part of the mining guild, then?" asked Leia.

Lando shook his head. "No, not actually. Our operation is small enough not to be noticed…which is advantageous for everybody since our customers are anxious to avoid attracting attention to themselves."

The group walked into another corridor, Lando leading them to the right. Leia thought there was just the slightest hesitation as he steered them over into the passage, but decided to ignore it.

"Aren't you afraid the Empire's going to find out about this little operation and shut you down?" asked Han, anxious to keep Lando's attention off Leia.

Lando's face was set grimly. "That's always been a danger looming like a shadow over everything we've built here…and it's about to get worse." He ushered them through a doorway, following them up last and closing the door, locking it behind him. "We'll have to move quickly. They won't be distracted forever."

"What's going on?" demanded Leia. "Where's Orlan?"

Lando regarded her with another smile, this one more melancholy than charming. "He saw through me. I'm sure you've had your suspicions as well…but I can tell the story later. Right now, all you need to know is that we're heading back to the _Falcon_ as fast as possible." He motioned for them to follow him down the isolated, doorless corridor. "This is a back way, that the stormtroopers don't know about."

"Stormtroopers?" exclaimed Leia as they trotted along after him. "What happened to Orlan?"

Chewbacca growled savagely.

Lando shook his head. "I know who he is. There's a few confusing details he still needs to work out with me…but your general's all right, for now."

Han glanced over at Leia, who looked as if she was ready to tear someone apart. 

"But _what is he doing?_"

"Buying us time."

***

Dressed in simple civilian garb, Obi-Wan walked silently through the halls, his lightsaber hidden beneath his outer tunic in a spot easily accessible.

A familiar voice sounded out from the intercoms, making the pedestrians pause to listen. Not wishing to attract any suspecting attention, Obi-Wan halted his progress as well.

"Attention. This is Lando Calrissian. The Empire has taken control of the city. I advise everyone to leave before more Imperial troops arrive."

__

Too soon, thought Obi-Wan. If there was even a _Victory_-class Star Destroyer waiting in geosynchronous orbit, the city would be razed within minutes.

__

No, he corrected himself, picking up his pace once again, _Vader's still here. He'll have to take the time to give orders to wait until he's offplanet. A good ten minutes._

He closed in on the double doors with a stylized relief of mountains, behind which he felt a strong dark presence, brooding and upset, to put it mildly.

They slid open as he withdrew his lightsaber.

***

Vader watched the doors part expectantly, standing from his seat at the end of the table.

Calrissian was not there. Neither was Organa. Neither was Solo, or the Wookiee.

He heard Boba Fett's blaster rifle being snapped up at the sight of the young figure, armed and ready. But Vader gestured for him to hold his fire, and took up his own lightsaber, heading around the table to meet the Jedi.

But if things went as planned, he would hardly have the need to use it.

Obi-Wan watched Vader carefully as the Sith lord slowly drew closer.

There was an ancient word of Massassi origin, meaning "Jedi". The Sith had made it; the word's meaning dripped of utter contempt.

__

"Harishk."

The word resonated from Darth Vader in anticipation.

Obi-Wan went rigid. Vader came closer…he tried to move…

__

"Harishk."

As his knees buckled, as his blade slid away, as the world faded, he had only one thought, only one conclusion for the unexpected event.

__

They did_ condition me._

~~~***~~~


	8. Quantum Force

Yes…I know…I'm so _evil…_ leaving you all hanging like that. XD

Well, I know there isn't much I can do to make you read the shoutouts, but I'm going to do them again anyway because I like to. Also, to save myself from the diabolical clutches of redundancy, I'm going to say thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far.

THANK YOU!!!
    
    Shoutouts:

****

Elf: You never seem to fail being the first person to review. Yes, I don't like cliffies either, but I love to make 'em. You'll have to suffer through it…heh heh…

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Kynstar and kayladie: My, my, you both sound so concerned. I wouldn't kill Obi-Wan off or anything…after all, I give him all the best lines, isn't that right? (grins) Yes, he is my favorite character. But everyone knew that already.

****

Smenzer: Yes, they would be pretty stupid if they were expecting his memory to return. But you must remember, it was an unprecedented event, and in any case, the Emperor has this undeniable tendency to underestimate his opponents. Probably because he's so darn conceited.

****

Kitkat: Purple prose, eh? I like developing my own style, but whether it's a good one or not almost remains to be seen…

****

Kyer: Oh, Obi-Wan's perfectly capable of taking care of himself, as we all know. I also begin to question Yoda's usefulness at this point…but I think I'm going to make him pivotal later on. And it isn't Obi-Wan who's going to need rescuing from Luke…

****

Luke and Kaial: _Ten_ of you? Lessee…that's…um…that's…40% of you. Agh…math isn't really my strong point… And yes, part of the reason I did this fic at all is to show how much remains the same, despite the addition of a previously deceased character.

****

NathanPostmark: Yeah, for a while I was thinking, _What the hell am I _doing_ to him????_ But no need to fear…chapter 8 is here.

All right, take a look at this: ~~~ Familiar, yes? Today it will denote a little flashback Mara has.

Get primed and ready for Chapter the Eighth.

~~~***~~~

__

Quantum Force

~~~***~~~

__

Excerpt from **Perelandra** by C. S. Lewis:

"'The world is so much larger than I thought. I thought we went along paths—but it seems there are no paths. The going itself is the path.'"

***

"Buying us time," snapped Leia as she hurried after Lando. "Buying us time! Why did you let him?"

"I couldn't have stopped him," he shouted back in a release of his pent-up tension.

Mara stumbled then, Chewie almost tripping over her. The Wookiee growled inquiringly; there hadn't been anything to trip over, and she didn't seem like the sort of person that would just stumble.

She kept running without an answer, thinking, _Kenobi's in trouble, I know it._

They had talked before he had left her and Lando to join the others, and she mentally ran over their quick exchange.

~~~

__

Lando stood in the corner, his dark eyes flashing curiously at information withheld. But Obi-Wan was not about to share it with anyone until he deemed it absolutely necessary that the person knew.

He'd stood right in front of her by the wall on the opposite end of the corridor, looking straight into her eyes. She could read the gravity of the situation from him instantly. The look in his eyes was not stern austerity, did not speak of pushed authority. It was the look of a patient teacher handing over a firm trust in his student. "I need you to tell Leia something if I don't come back. And Mara…Palpatine must never know_."_

"Then I'm assuming you don't want Vader to know, either," she replied.

"That goes without saying," he agreed, and told her the message.

~~~

Mara reflected on it now. Indeed, if word ever got out to Vader or the Emperor…she couldn't imagine what would happen. A catastrophe, to say the absolute least. What an inscrutable trust Kenobi had placed in her.

Palpatine's connection with her was severed. He would never know through her; Kenobi's secret was safe.

After all, Mara kept many of her own.

Lando slowed his pace to stand by a side door. "Let's make it quick. No doubt there are stormtroopers everywhere by now."

Han drew his blaster and checked the charge as the door slid open.

"It's clear," Lando murmured to them, and they filed out into the hallway silently.

Mara tried to gather her concentration as they sped through the corridor. An unfriendly presence was nearby, the mind keen as a vibroblade and intent on discovering something.

__

Not something_, someone,_ she corrected herself, after a closer look. _Us._

Boba Fett stepped out a bare ten meters ahead of them and raised his rifle. Without conscious thought, she rose her open hand and pushed. The bounty hunter flew back a meter or two and landed heavily, banging his head on the polished floor.

Han took the opportunity to snap off a shot, and Lando noticed his old friend was still against killing in cold blood. The stun beam washed over, rendered partly ineffective by Fett's armor but still strong enough to make the hunter collapse.

[Let's go,] Chewie suggested urgently.

"Great idea," Han replied, looking to Lando.

The administrator nodded and led them off into another passage. The city seemed to be a complex interworking of halls, making it feel as if there was no space for any actual rooms, though this was far from the truth.

Still, even Han was beginning to confuse his sense of direction as Lando took them left and right, across and over halls, through countless doors. "You going the long way, or something?"

"We're almost there. It isn't quite the shortest," replied Lando, who was starting to lose his breath, "but it's comparatively quick enough and I thought it might throw off any followers we pick up."

"No kidding."

Of the whole group, Lando was feeling the effects of a long jog the most; he just hadn't been getting much exercise lately. _Why do I feel like that's about to change?_ he thought, and turned to rush into an anteroom.

Someone else had had the brilliant idea to rush around the same corner in the opposite direction; Lando collided with the unknown party and spun off, barely keeping his balance as the other hit the wall hard.

Leia's eyes widened in surprise. "Luke! What are you doing here?"

Luke pushed himself off the wall. "Leia? Han? I…" He stood for a moment, dazed by his impact with the wall as well as the sudden realization that his friends weren't in trouble, after all… "Oh, no."

Artoo wheeled up, whistling busily as he whirred around the corner.

Lando straightened, indignant. "Now what?"

"Ask questions later," Mara snapped. "Here comes trouble."

A company of stormtroopers filed into the chamber and began firing.

"Back," shouted Lando, though the order was needless. They had all taken cover quickly…except for Luke.

He stood in the middle of the antechamber, lightsaber blazing, deflecting every single shot that came within the reach of his blade. The effect of the display was awe-inspiring to a group that had never seen a Jedi on the defense, but now was no time to stare off in wonder.

Mara was nearly raging. Kenobi might have trusted her to accompany the group and carry a private message, but there was no way Han would have let her walk around freely with her weaponry. There was nothing she could do against the stormtroopers; she had no blaster.

__

Maybe the idiot in the middle of the room can do something about that, she thought, and tried to send a message without distracting him too much.

In response, five blasters came flying her way, their former users dead on the floor. Chewbacca had left his bowcaster on the _Falcon,_ so she tossed one to him, and Leia received one as well. Han and Lando seemed to be faring fine on their own, so she took two of the three remaining blasters up and began pouring fire out on the troopers.

Leia watched in disbelief as Mara's seemingly random fire instantly killed every stormtrooper it came over, hitting precisely at weak spots in the armor and creating a small mound of dead troopers.

The company had been speedily dealt with. Luke extinguished his lightsaber and turned back to nod solemnly at Mara.

"You're Skywalker?" she inquired, without a trace of her usual abrupt harshness. _Kenobi would be proud, _she thought dryly.

He nodded. "Call me Luke." He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to follow up with her own name.

"Mara Jade. I suggest we leave now," she added to the whole party. "Kenobi's not going to be meeting up with us."

Leia stared at her in alarm. "What?"

"He's…being detained."

The same look of panic crossed Luke and Leia's faces at the same time. Mara entertained herself with the far-fetched thought that they might be long-lost twins but got no humor out of it. Not now. She was almost panicked at herself for having the same feeling. Was she getting soft?

Steeling herself, she snapped, "There's nothing we can do about it right now. Besides, something tells me he's going to be fine. Let's go."

That was truth; she was feeling that even though Kenobi was now in all probability being held by Vader himself, the old Jedi would be able to take care of himself, somehow.

…She hoped.

***

He had briefly wondered, once, how long it took one to grow accustomed to waking up without knowing where one was. In any case, it hadn't happened to him yet. Dazed, he tried to remember what had made him lapse into unconsciousness in the first place, something that seemed to be happening alarmingly often.

Then it came to him in an instant as a surge of adrenaline took him, coursing through his body, and he stiffened, eyes snapping open. Blue orbs fell to a complex tangle of machinery, wires, and bare metal just below and in front of him.

Something among the intricate mess sparked and began glowing a heated red.

He tried to push himself off the near-vertical board he leaned back on, but was arrested by the straps that held him in place. Those same straps retained him to the board as it gradually pitched forward, closer to the heat.

As the pain blossomed, he tried to ward the agony off with a technique he had learned long ago…and found it nearly impossible to concentrate. His still-fuzzed mind betrayed it to him; he'd been drugged, deprived of his greatest weapon. Now the pain was free to lance up his nerves, his muscles jerking spasmodically as numbing electricity passed through them.

It wasn't the Force that had been taken away, only his means of accessing it. He could still feel it in the back of his mind, and tried to draw himself into it, retreating from the agonizing torment.

It was his worst mistake. Vader was there, filling him with a waking nightmare. He was trapped, forced to relive the Purges over and over, seeing Jedi murdered from Vader's own perspective, many of them his own comrades. Killed, burned, tortured, desecrated.

Vader made one of them Luke.

That made Obi-Wan writhe; he grasped at his blocked concentration, trying to overcome the drug by sheer will.

Vader retreated from his mind in surprise; Kenobi was regaining his focus, slowly and steadily. Every little bit more exponentially increased the rate at which the drug was burning off. Kenobi was actually cleansing it from his system, creating it into a different chemical. A chemical opposite to its predecessor: it actually had _nutritional_ qualities, now, if only to add to Vader's enraged incredulity.

The torment was beginning to lose its effectiveness. Thoroughly angry, Vader gestured for an aide to turn the thing off, and Kenobi was reverted back upright, panting and disheveled.

The Jedi's head lolled to one side, and his eyes struck the Sith with their incisive clarity. "You struck me down," he said between gasps. "I warned you."

The lidless eyes of Vader's helmet were the last things he saw, the burning lethal rage inside the last thing he felt, when the aide came up on the other side of him and stuck the needle into his arm.

***

It was a short trip to the carbon freezing chamber. Still, Vader was impatient. Kenobi was already starting to awaken, but that was all right; he'd feel the freezing, then. Besides, it was more convenient for the victim to be able to stand as their minds were jettisoned into the chilling realms of hibernation.

Everything was prepared and ready. All that remained to be done was the actual process. If Kenobi survived the freezing, he would be taken to the Imperial Palace, to Vader's master. The combined power of the two Sith would break him, would beat him to the floor, something Vader had long envisioned. He was sure Palpatine would be more than willing to undertake the exercise, noting who the clone had primarily broken allegiance with. No doubt the Emperor would employ his new shipment of pirahna-beetles from Yavin IV somewhere in the process. The insects would take a long time to kill Kenobi, eating away at flesh until the victim died of general internal exposure and blood loss.

Vader reflected on the inventive homicidal tendencies his master had always had. Of course, Palpatine had suppressed it during his days as Chancellor of the Old Republic, but now that he was Emperor, he occasionally used his incredible power as an entertaining toy.

***

Obi-Wan, carried on a stretcher by a pair of aides following after Darth Vader, was waking slowly of his own account, busily tracking the effect of the conditioned word deep inside his brain. The conditioning had been cleverly implanted, and Obi-Wan could see why Han had had such concern over the possibility. But the Force was with him, and he began to eradicate the darkened spot. It washed away very slowly; he was worried he might not have enough time.

Obi-Wan's eyes opened gradually as he continued the inner process, his eyes adjusting quickly to the darker state of the room they had just entered.

Red-orange lights cast a menacing gleam to the chamber's main features. He was carried down a short flight of steps and set down on the floor as he heard the _thump-thump-thump_ of troopers marching in. Vader was taking no chances.

__

It's too bad for him that there are still some things he can't control, Obi-Wan thought blearily as he was hauled unceremonially upright by the aides.

Vader's distinctive respiration could be heard at the other side of the pit in the floor. "Put him in."

__

In? wondered Obi-Wan. _In where?_ He tried to get a sense of it from the surrounding sentients.

Carbon freeze.

__

I've got a bad feeling about this, he decided as he was shoved forward onto the circular lift, and reached out into the Force once more.

***

It was done. Vader again emerged the victor.

He watched with a sense of triumph as the mist sealed Kenobi from sight; a coffin-like object rose up out of the pit, a relief of a human protruding from one side.

It was interesting, the sensation he had felt when the freezing had taken place. Instead of a slow decline of awareness, as he had thought he'd feel from Obi-Wan, there had been a brief flicker, like a candle being blown out.

He stalked up to Kenobi's frozen features, inspecting the Jedi's last mask.

Strangely enough, the expression Kenobi had imprinted on the carbonite was one of composure, not that of a trapped animal in the slightest. Vader had expected the latter, even for a man of incredible self-control like Obi-Wan.

On impulse, he reached out to lightly tap against the carbonite shell.

__

Dong-dong-dong-dongggg.

Strange. It sounded…hollow.

His pulse quickened as he looked to the life monitor implanted on the side. It showed no sign of life whatsoever.

__

No…

Vader probed inside the carbonite with all his power, and felt only a lingering tendril of Kenobi's presence. In sudden trepidation, he punched the release controls as the stormtroopers and aides stood in silence, looking on.

The carbonite slowly melted, collapsing in to reveal a cavity.

For the first time in decades, Vader wanted to scream, keeping silent only for the sake of reputation. He knew Obi-Wan was still alive; he would have felt his death had it happened. Kenobi had escaped the coffin; the candle had been blown out only to flicker to life elsewhere. Even living, the man was still a ghost.

There was only one explanation; Kenobi had rediscovered an art lost eons before the formation of the Old Republic, an ability out of myth.

He had become a needle-tipped thread in the fabric of space-time.

***

Torn, Luke remained in the doorway as the others started outside, having reached the _Falcon's _platform at last.

First Leia noticed, then the others as she turned back to go to him. "Luke…I know you want to find him, but there's no way we can get him back right now. Mara's right—"

"No," he interrupted. "I can stop Vader. I have to go. If I don't, Ben's going to die."

"Luke!" she cried after him as he turned and ran back into the city. Leia couldn't bear the thought of losing both him _and_ the general in one day.

A pained look in his eyes, Han started out to the ship again.

"Han!" Leia yelled angrily. "We can't leave Luke!"

He wheeled around at her. "He brought his X-wing here. If we're leaving, it's now or never. Are you coming?" he snarled at them all, but especially Leia.

Artoo tootled miserably at the calculated possibility of losing his owner.

Leia sighed, sympathizing, and put her hand on the top of his dome. "I know. But Threepio's waiting for you on board."

The droid perked up incrementally and followed after Han, the rest of them trailing behind as well. Their pace quickened considerably when another company of stormtroopers made an appearance at the door, blasters firing.

"Come on," Han shouted, pointing them up the boarding ramp and waiting until everyone was inside. Then he sprinted up the ramp, his heel coming up a moment too late. Han stumbled inside as he closed the boarding ramp, smelling burnt leather.

The _Falcon_ whirred to life; he figured Chewbacca had already reached the cockpit when he felt a slight but telltale push of inertia. They had lifted off quickly, decidedly a good thing under these circumstances. He hobbled to the cockpit, wincing.

Leia met him halfway. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he growled, brushing past her. But to his surprise, he found Chewie was still heading for the cockpit; the Wookiee had been one of the last ones in. _Lando's flying, then?_

No; he rounded the corner and saw Lando, Mara, Artoo and Threepio in the main hold. His eyes widened, and he rushed to the cockpit, forgetting about his singed heel for a moment. _Who the hell is flying?_

Chewbacca gave an enormous bark of joy when he opened the cockpit door, and practically leaped inside.

"What…?" Han limped in after him.

Obi-Wan sat at the controls, his hands guiding the _Falcon_ up out of the atmosphere.

"How'd you get here?" Han exclaimed, his words echoed by Chewie.

"I folded myself through space-time. You'd better sit, now," said Obi-Wan.

The ship began shaking under atmospheric turbulence and Han stumbled back into one of the navigation seats while Chewbacca let himself fall into the copilot's chair. Despite his attention drawn to the pitching of the ship, he'd noticed that Obi-Wan's voice was considerably hoarser than last he'd heard it. _Teleportation?_ he wondered, ignoring Obi-Wan's ragged voice for the moment. _How'd he manage _that?

The door shot open, framing Mara. Han looked back at her and was startled; it was the first time he'd ever seen her smile with such genuine openness. _Too bad she doesn't more often…but I'd better not tell Leia that._

"Kenobi," she said. "I might have known."

Chewie saw a faint smile spread across the Jedi's face—then Obi-Wan froze.

"What?" asked Han worriedly, afraid something inside the _Falcon_ had malfunctioned.

"Luke. I sensed him before. Where's Luke?" There was no mistaking the sickened anxiety in his voice.

"Oh…he's down there, looking for you." Han's heart sank at his own words.

Obi-Wan stared off into the stars, gripping the controls so hard his knuckles turned white. He remembered vividly the scenes Vader had pushed into his mind, and now it could become reality.

Wait…there had been something else he'd felt. Vader had withheld from him the thought that these things would never come to pass, but Obi-Wan had found it all the same, still familiar with the basic workings of Vader's mind after all these years and changes.

That thought had meant Vader felt a connection toward Luke.

__

Oh, no. No… Obi-Wan's anxiety twisted into full-blown dread; he made himself push it out of his mind. _Despair is of the dark side._

But the question remained: _When did Vader learn Luke is his son?_

Chewie's concerned grunt brought Obi-Wan back out of his thoughts. They were in orbit around Bespin, and Obi-Wan would not be able to arrive soon enough to help. Teleporting back was impossible; he'd exerted too much energy from folding to the _Falcon_ in the first place. All he could give Luke now was his support.

Deep inside, the primal anger that was his by right of human inheritance stirred. All his days in the Temple had been centered on that one thing, on quashing the monster inside him. A similar monster resided in everyone, and Obi-Wan had never been an exception. But he recognized this ire as not an uncontrollable rage; it was the wide-eyed conjoined companion that whispered confidentially into Obi-Wan's ear: _If Luke dies, **there will be hell to pay.**_

***

Darth Vader felt a grudging satisfaction as he watched Luke rise into the chamber, borne by a small round lift. This was one part of the plan that had worked out, anyway. He had muted his respiration machinery for a minute and stood in the thick silence that was suspended in the strange-smelling air.

Keeping his eyes trained on his son, Vader allowed his breathing to start up again. Indeed, this boy was powerful. "The Force is with you, young Skywalker. But you are not a Jedi yet."

Others would have been deterred by the voice; Luke was drawn by it. He made his way to the stairs, ascending warily to stand perhaps two meters from Vader, reaching out to see if he could get a better idea of what he was up against.

Vader delayed, standing as a statue, waiting for Luke to make the first move.

The wait seemed to exert a forcible pressure on the boy; he evidently could not keep still much longer and ignited his lightsaber.

Vader brought up his blade in response, easily parrying Luke's first few attacks. Then Luke's offensive began to progress considerably; Vader probed the Force more carefully. "You have learned much, young one."

"You'll find I'm full of surprises," Luke said through clenched teeth.

Then Vader found the source. Kenobi had the outright brazenness to feed strength to the boy. Outraged, Vader's defensive tactics shifted to offense quickly, pushing Luke to the floor. A flick of the wrist and Luke's blade flew out of his hand, the boy tumbling down the stairs. Luke moved just in time as Vader's feet connected with the ground where his head had been a moment earlier.

Rolling up, Luke centered his weight, keeping a vigilant eye on Vader as his mind searched for his lost lightsaber.

"Your destiny lies with me, Skywalker. Obi-Wan knew this to be true."

"No…"

***

Obi-Wan heard Luke's unknowing denial as if he was there himself, and it pained him.

He _had_ known. Vader was right, but not in the sense that the Sith lord spoke the words. Obi-Wan had known for over a decade that Luke's destiny was closely intertwined with his father's, though exactly how he'd never been able to see. One way or the other, Luke would develop his abilities, maturing his potential, and Vader would be an influence in it.

Like the flexible plane of space-time had laid itself before him to distort with the Force, so now various avenues were exposed to his mind, showing him a thousand possibilities. But all these thousand were produced from two main beginnings. One of the roads in the fork was, though narrow and winding, brilliant with light and power. The other lay cast in darkness, broad and downhill but littered with stumbling stones. The dark path had a foul stench of abused power and twisted pleasure, where the lit way shone pure of these hedonistic values and inviting anyone who wished to partake.

It was one way or the other, and the choice was Luke's alone.

The battle moved quickly, playing out in his mind; Luke jumped from the pit, clinging to tubes hanging from the ceiling and, finding his lightsaber, leaping off.

Vader was on to him quickly, employing techniques Obi-Wan hadn't seen before, which meant they were of Vader's own development or exclusive to the Sith.

__

Likely both, Obi-Wan decided, knowing in the latter scenario he likely would have recognized something, and tried to catalog the movements for use in any possible future fight as he kept giving his support to Luke, who was coping better than expected.

Through Luke, he heard Vader's words: "Obi-Wan has taught you well. You have controlled your fear…now release your anger."

Luke only became more cautious at the words and realized his foolhardiness; he moved into the defensive position Yoda had drilled into him, readied for the coming onslaught.

Quick moves were exchanged as Luke pushed Vader back, unsure of whether the Sith lord was getting wearied, or if he was merely playing with him and tiring Luke out before striking.

"Only your hatred can destroy me."

If Vader's plan was the latter, it was working. Though he kept stepping back at Luke's blows, his part defensive, part offensive positioning was nearly flawless.

Luke complemented a dazzling combination with a midair flip over Vader's helmet, though his strike at the Sith's back was met immediately by the blood-red blade. Despite his frustration to slip past his foe's defenses, he managed to maneuver Vader back onto a ledge.

Vader lost his balance, falling over into the manmade chasm that held the outer rim of pipes. Luke peered down, trying to make out where he had landed, but the lack of light didn't permit him. He deactivated his lightsaber and dropped down into the unknown, Obi-Wan's mind following along.

***

It was dark in this part of the city.

The door had shut behind Luke, accentuating the feeling that there was no turning back. Whatever was down here was his to deal with, now. His eyes widened to accommodate for the darkness as he investigated all corners from his position.

Vader was waiting.

It happened so quickly, his mind hardly kept up; suddenly he was being battered with fragments of machinery torn off the walls and hurling themselves toward him. He managed to dissect a few with his lightsaber, but it was too much to keep up with…

One hunk of metal crashed through the window, breaking the barrier between higher and lower pressure. The very core of Cloud City was hollow, a perpetual gale tearing downward past the numerous gantries set up in the massive conduit. Luke was sucked out of the window and bodily hurtled out into the tubular chasm, his fall fortunately cut off by one of the gantries. He managed to haul himself up to the solid surface and lay there, gasping, his hands gripping the edge as he gazed down the city's main to oblivion.

***

Still careful to supply Luke, Obi-Wan now turned a covert attention to Vader, intending to cautiously monitor him for the rest of the duel, looking for the Sith lord's next move.

What he actually found was of far more interest. Vader was not only armed with his blade and the power of the Force, but with simple fact as well.

__

No, no, it's too early for Luke to know… But Obi-Wan was helpless to change Vader's intent. Any such intrusion would immediately be noticed, and the _Falcon's _location would be quickly revealed, only delaying the inevitable by perhaps a few minutes. It was far too late to tell Luke to abandon the fight; the young man was cornered. There was nothing Obi-Wan could do to stop the words from coming.

He kept an acutely attuned connection with Luke, opening the channel even more and letting Luke recognize where this extra support was coming from, feeding it through calmly and steadily. This was a foundation Luke could trust to rest on.

Luke ventured into a tunnel that connected the gantry with the rest of the city, his silent lightsaber firmly in his hand. If there was a way back up—

Vader came out of the shadows, his blade blazing to life and swinging at Luke, who was by now hard pressed to defend himself. All thoughts of offense had been driven from Luke's mind as he sought only to protect himself from the unstoppable driving progress of the red blade, and he realized Vader had been toying with him earlier.

__

I should have known, Luke thought desperately, searching for more support from his mentor.

As if on cue, Vader's mechanical voice wove itself into his mind. "You are beaten. It is useless to resist. Don't let yourself be destroyed as Obi-Wan did."

By now Luke had backed far onto the gantry, the wind buffeting his face as he took a headlong swing at Vader's shoulder. It actually nicked through the armor, rising a small column of smoke before Luke was forced to defend himself again. Vader's attack was losing its earlier finesse; his sword came slashing through three metal cylinders that held up an instrument complex and the wind carried the machinery off, pushing it upward like a snowflake at first and then letting it drop.

It was human instinct that distracted Luke's eye to glance at the tumbling complex, and Vader seized the opportunity.

The red blade came in, severing Luke's right hand just below the wrist. The hand dropped away with the lightsaber still in its grasp as Luke cried out in agony and disbelief, staring at the horrific stump for a moment before tucking it under his left arm and working his way to the cluster of machinery that hung precariously at the end of the gantry, standing only on a metal ring and gripping desperately at a single handhold.

Vader came to the edge of the walkway, rendering any retreat Luke might have made impossible. There was nowhere to go.

The Sith lord held out his hand as a token of offering. "There is no escape; don't make me destroy you. You do not yet realize your importance. You have only begun to discover your power. Join me and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy."

Luke's voice edged onto hysteria as he tried to find a better position. "I'll never join you!"

Still irrevocably connected, Obi-Wan knew what was to come, and slumped down in his seat aboard the _Falcon,_ tasting a dish that had been served to him before. The bitter sensation of failure.

Vader continued, knowing his words were being delivered to a second audience. "If you only knew the power of the dark side. Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father."

"He told me enough!" Luke choked out raggedly, unable to ignore the searing pain at the termination of his right arm. "He told me you killed him."

Up in orbit, Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut.

"No. I am your father."

***

Obi-Wan suddenly shouted hoarsely, wondering if it was an apology or a denial: "_It wasn't meant to happen this way!"_

Chewbacca jumped and stared at him, moaning apprehensively.

Leia had slipped in before and now reached out to grip the side of the pilot's chair, turning it sideways so she could see him. "What happened?"

He stared into her eyes, wide with helpless anxiety. "He…Luke…he's alive. But…we have to go back down."

Han sat upright. "What? Why, where is he?"

"He's cornered." Obi-Wan didn't dare close his connection with Luke now, but it hurt him immeasurably to keep it open. All he felt from Luke was frightened betrayal. "He's going to let go…we have to go _now_."

Han took over the controls and twisted the _Falcon_ into a steep dive back towards Bespin, and Cloud City.

Obi-Wan searched as the _Falcon_ dropped into the atmosphere, speeding towards the jeweled city on the horizon that eclipsed the sunset. "I'm going to the top hatch." He took Leia's hand for a moment. "Show Captain Solo the way to Luke."

"What…?" She was startled.

"Keep an open mind, and you'll know where he is." Obi-Wan left the cockpit.

Flustered, she turned to look out the window as Chewie glanced back at her and uttered a question.

Han was frustratingly bewildered. Obi-Wan hadn't even told him where Luke was supposed to be… "Chewie, keep your eyes on the sensors."

"Wait." Leia stared out as she felt a strange connection click in. "Wait. He's on the bottom of the city."

"What?"

"Just go," she snapped. "And release the lock for the top hatch."

As they neared, to Han's amazement, he saw a human form hanging onto one of the hundreds of weather vanes that protruded from the city. "Hey…"

The form as well as the weather vane dropped down to jerk with a stop, starting to swing.

Leia's eyes widened in panic. "Hurry, he's falling!"

"I know, I know!" Han gunned the engines as Chewbacca roared for Luke to keep holding on.

Even though it was outside of the ship and too far away to hear regardless, all three could have sworn they heard an ominous _snap_ as the weather vane finally broke off under pressure it was never meant to bear.

"Luke!" Leia screamed as he and the vane tumbled down, quickly obscured by the clouds underneath.

The _Falcon_ groaned as Han pitched her into the steepest dive he dared.

Chewbacca glanced at the sensors and Han learned a new Shyriiwook profanity just then as the Wookiee barked in shock.

Luke was _rising_, up and out of the clouds.

Another sensor reading showed that the top hatch was being opened.

Coming out of the gaseous mists, they saw Luke simply hovering in mid-air.

Han shook his head. "First teleportation, and now _this…_" He gestured out to his airborne friend. "I don't know what your general eats, but I want some for breakfast tomorrow morning."


	9. Cause and Effect

YES! I finally posted the next chapter! XD

Shoutouts: (going to be a rather long list, as you all make me feel loved)

Kyer: Well…glad you liked it. I'm assuming that was a good rave.

Kynstar and kayladie: I just _had_ to put a witty comment at the end… (grins) To make up for chapter seven's cliffy, I guess.

NathanPostmark and Kitkat: Since you both said "awesome", I'm supposing there's some truth to that, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy… and Kitkat, thanks for the love… (grins again)

BekaJWP: Hi! And thank you! And about avoiding the incest kiss…well, I'm sure I share the same sentiments with everyone. I thought it was a fairly safe bet that Leia would rather kiss the clone of an old general than her own brother.

Luke, Kaial, and "Anakin" Skywolf: (steals line from Threepio) Oh…perfect… Heehee. You guys are great.

Lena Breeze: Yes, I had some troubles with limiting myself from all the different possibilities. The story you see here is the best track I found out of many.

Jedi Nifet: I deliberately made Obi-Wan unusually powerful; after all, he's back from the dead and even if he doesn't remember any of his "down time", he has explored realms and found out secrets that no other living sentient has been/is privy to. Sort of like his spirit's taken an amnesiac sabbatical and come back with more knowledge regardless. ;) Darth Real Life attacks again, eh? I can sympathize…

Jedi from Rohan: Okay, I guess all the earlier shoutouts to Elf with a Lightsaber belong to you now.

THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED, AND KEEP IT UP! You have no idea how I anticipate going on a day after posting and seeing what sort of feedback I've been getting… My, my, I sound rather pathetically dependent. :P Truth is, I'd keep posting, reviews or not. They just make me a _lot_ happier.

Not so much action this time around, mostly effects, ergo the title.

A note: This chapter contains several references to my fic Hermitage. Jedi Dawn is, after all, its sequel. So if you haven't read Hermitage, I recommend you do so to avoid confusion.

Cause and Effect

The wind buffeted him through the opening even before the tubular lift had brought him to the hatch, carrying his hair in front of his eyes. He'd let it grow to about three inches already, seeing no reason to cut it yet. It was close to the length he'd had in his years as a general, and then a recluse. But he remembered he'd soon have to shave his scraggly teenager's beard, as it was beginning to look rather unkempt. Looking one's best had always been one of the priorities in the Temple; it would impress diplomats, if nothing else, and win (discriminatory) favor with those who were so inclined to judge by looks alone. The Masters had always been cautious to press the injustice of this and that every sentient had a beauty to them, no matter the species or sub-race.

But right now Obi-Wan had more immediate concerns to look after. His head came up through the opening, and he reached out about half a meter to grasp Luke's ankle, pulling the young man toward him and down to the hatch, gradually releasing his levitation.

"We're in, Captain."

As the lift sank back down, Obi-Wan shifted Luke's position to lean against him and tilted Luke's head back so he could look down into the half-open sky-blue eyes.

"Luke. Look at me, Luke." He knew the cauterized stump of Luke's right arm wasn't quite so urgent to look after as the possibility of shock.

The blue eyes gradually focused in on him and suddenly Luke went rigid, staring back up at him. "You…"

Obi-Wan's heart sank.

"You lied to me."

"No, Luke, I'd never lie to you. I was protecting you by telling a truth from a certain point of view."

Luke shook his head, his confused eyes darting around the lift. "You lied…you said he killed my father, but he _is…_" He choked on the words that wouldn't come, that stuck painfully in his throat. If the proclamation delivered by Lord Vader had been a physical blow, it might have killed him.

"Luke. Look at me."

Luke refused to meet his eyes.

"Look at me." Obi-Wan's voice was more insistent, and this time the young man obeyed. Obi-Wan gentled his tone as he employed the voice of reason. "Think, Luke. What would be my motive in such a thing?"

They had reached the bottom of the lift, and the door slid open to reveal everyone but Lando, who was piloting the _Falcon_ back out into vacuum.

Luke smiled faintly, though it was a hesitant, shallow expression. "I guess you're right."

Obi-Wan smiled back down at him and helped him to walk out of the cramped lift into the waiting arms of Leia.

Wordlessly, she embraced him tightly, careful to avoid touching his arm.

He winced regardless. "Leia…"

"Come." Obi-Wan put a light hand on Luke's shoulder. "Let's get you looked after."

As he and Leia led Luke off to the small med station, Lando's hardened voice cut in over the intercom. "Han, we've got a problem."

Han cursed and limped back toward the cockpit. "Now what?"

The remaining party stopped and listened to the throbbing whine of the ion engine reach a crescendo before dying off.

"They'll be in range of our tractor beam in moments, lord." Admiral Piett held himself with quiet assurance at the bridge's main viewport alongside Darth Vader.

"Did your men deactivate the hyperdrive on the _Millennium Falcon_?" Vader wanted no mistakes. The sooner he was able to subdue the _Falcon's_ living content, the better, chiefly in Luke's case. Better to wrest the boy from Kenobi's teachings while they had not yet taken root in Luke's open mind, forever closing that door to Vader's desired influence.

"Yes, my lord." Piett was supremely confident that all had gone well, and was still sharp enough to keep a close eye on proceedings. Vader liked how Piett operated most of the time; except for the occasional lapse in courage the admiral modeled a true Imperial.

"Good. Prepare the boarding party and set your weapons for stun." Vader reasoned there was something to squeeze from each member that would benefit the Empire in some way.

"Yes, my lord," Piett replied, and did a smart about-face. The Sith lord wondered momentarily if Piett had guessed what he'd been thinking and was bound to impress his superior further. The admiral was a bright enough man; after all, that was the primary reason he'd made it onto the _Executor_ in the first place. Here it was that Vader cultivated his men. The officers that left Vader's flagship were known as the best in the Imperial Navy. The fact that Piett had ascended to the rank of admiral spoke remarkably of his abilities…and also the misfortune of his former superior officers. That aside, Vader hoped the man wouldn't needlessly destroy himself in a moment of foolishness. Reputations and order had to be immaculately kept, and Piett knew he was walking a very thin line.

Which was why Vader sensed the admiral throwing a worried glance over his shoulder at the _Falcon_ before continuing on his latest assignment.

Artoo tweedled as he observed the sunken pit that housed the hyperdrive, and the irked sentients inside it.

"Dear me," complained Threepio from his seat by the dejarik gameboard, "I don't see how someone couldn't have found the time to repair my arm by now.   
Artoo, why don't you come over here and—"

The protocol droid's suggestion was cut off by an irritated series of raspberries emanating from Artoo.

"My goodness—"

"Give it a rest!" Han barked from his position in the hyperdrive pit. He thumbed his comlink and held it up to his mouth. "How're we doing for time?"

"Not much left," came Lando's strained voice. "Make it quick. No doubt they're powering up their tractor beams."

Han cursed and flicked off the comlink. "Found anything yet?"

Chewbacca roared a vexed negative, pounding a piece of hardy-looking equipment with a monstrous wrench.

"Be careful!" Han snapped. "You're going to give us another problem!"

Han's sharpened voice carried down the corridor to where Luke lay on the med cot, his arm stump bandaged firmly into a protective cuff.

Leia gently sponged off his forehead with a wet cloth while Obi-Wan looked after the monitors.

Suddenly Luke's eyes opened. "Father."

Confused, Leia looked to Obi-Wan, who stood staring down at the boy that had used to be his young charge…Obi-Wan wasn't so sure about that anymore.

"What's he talking about?" Leia asked softly, pitching her voice so only Obi-Wan could hear.

He set his mouth firmly as the _Falcon_ rocked under their feet. "That's one of many things we need to discuss later."

Luke winced. "Ben…"

Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder, still sensing the betrayal in Luke's voice. "Luke, I can't make you understand. You need to accept this yourself."

"But why didn't you tell me?" Luke thirsted for an answer, searching his mentor's face desperately.

Unsure to the point of frustration, Leia also turned her scrutiny upon Obi-Wan. "What's going on?"

Mara paced one of the back corridors in the _Falcon._ The others were busy enough not to notice her absence, though she knew Kenobi would be looking for her soon.

But she was busy in her own way, her mind working at unraveling the subtleties that hid in the back of her mind, waiting to be uncovered by some catalytic thought.

Wheels within wheels within wheels. The Emperor has something up his sleeve in this. He didn't abandon me simply because I failed him. That might have been an explanation at another time, but there's something else. There is another reason…but what is it? She strove for the answer that wouldn't come. Mara was convinced of its existence. It was exactly like something that old Palpatine would have concocted. Why had he discarded her? Why did he wish for her absence? The reason had to be more than it seemed.

She frowned, and stopped wandering, standing straight with her hands clasped at the small of her back. _Maybe this isn't so much to do with my absence as my presence elsewhere. Does Palpatine want me here, wanting me to believe he has discarded me?_

It sounded like ludicrous nonsense. Why would the Emperor deliberately turn a powerful servant's allegiance to the Rebellion? _There's a hidden reason,_ she knew. _There _must_ be a hidden reason. Either that, or he's going mad._

But even insane persons keep their death-hold on power. Her mind reeled at the concept. Even with a total lack of lucid thought, the old man would be incredibly dangerous in the way of instability rather than cunning.

Mara knew this line of thought deserved more inspection, but it would have to wait. The _Falcon_ rocked under enemy fire; perhaps if she offered her help they wouldn't all be blown to atomic particles, slight as their odds might improve with her assistance.

Determined, she altered her course to the main hold where she knew the hyperdrive was being worked over. The question still remained whether Solo would actually accept her help or not. Mara couldn't blame him if he turned her down; she'd already tried to kill him twice, and first impressions were always lasting. Still, she supposed it was worth a try.

Sure enough, Solo and the Wookiee were practically tearing the drive apart. She walked up and looked down into the pit. "Want any help?"

They both looked up at her simultaneously.

"I can deal with it myself," Han growled.

Mara shrugged and walked off to the cockpit silently.

"What was that about?" Han wondered aloud to Chewbacca.

The Wookiee shook his furred head. [Maybe she's finally coming around. Hand me that pro-wrench?]

Then a thought finally occurred, delayed by the stress and adrenaline of the moment. "Wait a minute! Chewie, check the hyperdrive motivator. I'm thinking the Imps had a good chance at some minor sabotage, one way or another." Hearing an agreeing grunt from his copilot, Han levered himself up to the deck and peered into a sunken box in the control panel, investigating it closely. "Hey…" He grinned at his discovery, reaching in and pinching the tab of metal between his index and middle fingers to give it a simple twist.

Strange how such small movements had the potential to define the life or death of a man. Piett had quickly given up staring after the spot where the _Millennium Falcon_ had disappeared; now his attention was riveted on every motion made by Lord Vader, who silently watched the stars for a moment before contemplatively turning to pace out of the bridge.

Admiral Piett exchanged a brief glance of relief with the captain. A few more days had been added to the end of their lives, days that had been in question the moment they'd taken up command and servanthood on the _Executor._

"Mara."

His voice intruded upon her absent mind. After the _Falcon _had finally leapt into hyperspace, Lando had left the cockpit, left her in the spacious copilot's seat to stare out at the patterns.

Mara managed to make the seat swivel by planting her palm firmly on a smooth spot of the control panel and pushing. Her view became unimpeded by the back of the chair, allowing her to see him standing at the rear of the cockpit. She could see he wasn't needing a vocal response, so she gave him none, simply met his unflinching gaze.

Obi-Wan smiled warmly. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Resisting the urge to kill while I wasn't there."

She rolled her eyes. "I only tear people apart and eat them either when I'm ordered to, or when their blatant stupidity makes it irresistible."

He only sighed. "We've all had our fair share of less-than-clever moments. But—"

"You didn't come here to talk about that," she finished for him. "I know you can see that something's bothering me."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Something Imperial. Believe me, I'm familiar with the feeling."

"Undoubtedly," she returned dryly. "Palpatine has a pure twenty-three up his sleeve, I know it."

He moved smoothly into the seat opposite from her. "A very dangerous sabacc, you mean?"

"There's something about this whole thing I like even less than before. He didn't cast me off because I displeased him. There's an ulterior motive. I know he wants me here for some reason."

Obi-Wan frowned. "Interesting, that he would hand over the loyalty of one of his most powerful servants to his enemies. You're right, something smells intricately rotten."

Mara couldn't help the brief amusement at the similar train of thought he had unknowingly shared with her. "I think it might have a lot to do with the general company I'm keeping, but I can't be sure."

"Did he send you here to win Luke's trust?" Obi-Wan mused. "But that doesn't sound right, either. He wants Luke's power, and if you rooted yourself in the Rebellion and became a friend to Luke, that would be all the more reason for him to stay; is that what he's thinking?"

Mara shook her head. "The main reasons he's staying are Solo, Organa, and you. He wouldn't need my companionship to make a difference."

"Precisely. That means you were planted here to accomplish a different objective." Obi-Wan's brow furrowed into its accustomed thinking position as he watched the light washing over the cockpit.

"Remember," said Mara, "that Palpatine's still thinking I'm sore at him from my desertion, and that I'm unaware of whatever he's cooking up. In that perspective, there's no reason for me to return to the Empire; my allegiance would naturally turn elsewhere."

Elsewhere, thought Obi-Wan, _not specifically the Rebellion. I'll still have to keep a close eye on her._ "So, it's likely his schemes center on you developing an attachment of some kind that demands…loyalty…toward somebody in this group."

"I'd bet my personal armory it's you, Kenobi."

He focused on her eyes again, and the corner of his mouth twitched. "I don't have an inclination to take sucker bets, Mara. What I'm interested to know is if his plan is working thus far."

"That'll take a messy situation with both of us in it for you to find out." Her expression remained stoically smooth.

"We already had one," he reminded her. "I wouldn't value your loyalty as much as your trust."

Mara stared at him narrowly. "Bad decision, Kenobi. That's something even harder to win. But we're getting off the subject. We're attempting to figure out what flavor of pie Palpatine has his finger in."

Then Obi-Wan received a flash of inspiration. Mara watched his spine straighten as he broke her gaze to stare out of the cockpit. "He wants you here…beside me. You're here for my protection." He looked back to her, expecting a mildly shocked expression. Instead he acquired from her a calculating, watchful gaze. "You're here as an insurance, because while I'm here, Luke is here, and while Luke is here—"

Mara understood in an instant. "Vader won't have him," she concluded. "Palpatine's afraid of them joining together, isn't he? But why would Skywalker do that?" she wondered quizzically. "I thought he hated Vader."

"There's something else that merely four living people in this galaxy know of, by my reckoning," Obi-Wan said grimly.

"And you're one of them."

His silence spoke measures of its own.

She absorbed this quietly. Kenobi wasn't the type to reveal anything important before he knew it appropriate to do so, and no amount of interrogation would get her anywhere. "So Palpatine also wants Organa here, doesn't he? I imagine she's sensitive as well."

Obi-Wan affirmed this with a single nod. "Of course, if this is his strategy, it holds something of an advantage for us as well. Luke and Vader's power combined would be far more destructive, and might topple Leia as well. Against three of their power…" He shook his head. "I can't think of anything that would be able to stand in their way. There would be nothing left for the Jedi Order to pick up from."

"It's the first I've ever heard of old Palpatine opting for galactic preservation," Mara mused. "But then, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

Obi-Wan was burdened with a heavy austerity. "No, Mara. This isn't the first occasion Palpatine's had his finger in a Skywalker pie."

It was the first nightmare he'd had in over three decades.

A surprise, to be sure.

Normally, he didn't recoil from the sight and smell of blood. Everyone else thought it was his nature to welcome it, nay, to cause it to flow. But this blood was different. It spoke of the betrayal of a slaughtered family, of sons and daughters watching their parents die before their eyes, of mothers and fathers wailing their lost children, the dead and the traitors.

He had been seen as a family friend, before the Purges. Now he was a mortal enemy of the rare survivors. These totaled at two, though one he did not yet know was still alive. It had been assumed that the diminutive Council elder had perished in the bombings and ravaging conflagration that had taken the Jedi Temple.

But the other, the one that had returned; the young voice plagued his subconscious. Day and night, night and day.

Now it amplified into the nightmare. It didn't matter what the young voice named his lost child as; student, son, friend, Padawan. The voice echoed unceasingly, accusing him of being the catalyst.

Today this lost child was called betrayer, foreigner, enemy…Sith. He would never be the same. He would forever be molded under two masters.

Then a different voice rebounded within; a woman's keening wail that lasted beyond human breath, to the very borders of human grief. He had crushed her hopes, killed her trust, taken her love, and finally murdered her.

Now the young voice was the coldest, the most biting he'd ever heard from a Jedi, where the frigid blame stretched past vocal nuances into the Force itself. _"See what you inflict upon the trustworthy. Liar, backstabber, traitor, deceiver. For your end there is reserved a warrior. Your reckoning day will come."_

Anyone else would have sat upright rigidly in a cold sweat.

Palpatine only laughed as the blood flowed, and accessed a freshly broken connection.

YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER.

Mara stood up in a flash and began to make a bolt for the door.

He rose quickly to stand exactly in her way, gripping her shoulders as soon as he saw the glint of murderous intent in her malachite eyes. "Where do you think you're going?"

The glimmer faded as she fought to control herself. "I…"

YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER.

She yelled hoarsely and formed a fist that he barely had enough time to avoid before its square impact with his nose.

"Mara!" Seeing the necessity, he wrestled her to the ground. "Mara, what's gotten into you?"

"It's him," she roared, glaring up at Obi-Wan. "Get off, I have to—"

"Push him out," he cut in firmly, still forcibly pinning her down. "You are not his pawn any longer. Make him learn that."

YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER.

Mara shuddered under the power of the conflicting orders.

"Think, Mara! Where does your allegiance lie?"

From Kenobi's tone, she knew he wasn't necessarily expecting the answer that he wanted. Well, she wasn't going to disappoint him. "With myself," she snarled back up. "Get off, Kenobi, I'm not going to kill anyone. I'd be a fool to."

Unconvinced, he stayed put, watching her carefully. "What is he telling you?"

YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER.

She was forming a small resistance to the compulsion, perhaps out of pure will. "He's telling me to kill Skywalker. Don't you dare let me." She was determined to sever her Imperial ties, and would see fit to disobey all of Palpatine's orders from this point forward.

"I won't," he promised, knowing his reasons for keeping Luke alive differed from hers. That hardly mattered at this point, though.

Mara managed to relax at her victory over one man and defeat under another. "Are you going to get up on your own, or make me remove you?"

Sensing the danger had passed, Obi-Wan rose. "I'm sorry for the necessity of that, but I won't apologize for my intervention."

"You don't have to." She seemed to look at him through one eye, her face turned away slightly.

He paused, standing stock-still. That one shimmering malachite eye was narrowed to a shockingly familiar slit. _She has the eye of the krayt dragon,_ he realized, expanding on the parallel of Mara and that Tatooine night. _And if something doesn't happen, Palpatine's going to drive her to her own destruction for what value she has left to him._

Mara's stare was riveting, penetrating. She finally broke the silence. "He assigned me as your bodyguard. Sort of redundant, isn't it?"

He murmured: "_Quis custodiet ipsos custodiet?_"

"What?"

Obi-Wan smiled sadly. "It's a question in an ancient tongue, posed to me by a friend at the fall of the Jedi.

'Who shall guard the guardians?'"

"I'm telling you, I don't like it."

Lando watched the holographic k'lor'slug move one block. "Neither do I. But there's only so much we can do about it anymore."

Han rolled his eyes and sat back. "Not just the general situation. I don't like what's going on between Luke and Vader. There's something about this that he and Kenobi know, and I don't."

"Maybe that's because it should stay that way," suggested Lando, eyeing his dejarik pieces critically. "Everyone's got their secrets."

The captain shook his head, ignoring the itch under the bandage on his heel. "You and me both, pal."

"Although," Lando said thoughtfully, "the general did pull Mara aside for a little chat while the three of us were going for our walk. The look on his face… Oh, I don't know. They'll tell about it when they need to."

"Easy for you to say. I never thought I'd say this, but…" Han grimaced. "Kid's become like a little brother. I don't want anything to happen."

Lando didn't laugh, didn't grin, just sat there staring at the gameboard. "Kind of like Jarik, huh?"

Jarik "Solo", the streetrat Han had taken under his wing, so to speak, during his stay on Nar Shaddaa. Jarik, who had stolen Han's last name out of a simple need for any name, and who had become like a little brother even after Han found the kid had lied to him about his identity. Jarik, who had died on Ylesia.

Han sighed. "Yeah. Like Jarik."

There came a time in most sentients' lives where they had to question their own sanity, their own discernment. Sith lords were not excluded.

But more than that, Vader was feeling the weighty pressure of uncertainty. How far had old Kenobi developed this ability? Vader could not help but dwell on the thought. The skill of creasing space-time was not one to be taken lightly. Kenobi had folded space. Did the ability extend to the other component of the fabric? More importantly, if he could fold time, did that matter? Would he dare not employ the skill? If he did, would he simply vanish for all eternity, or alter history?

Would he somehow prevent the rise of the Empire from ever happening?

Paradoxes and possibilities reeled in thick messy streams through Vader's mind. He had difficulty disentangling himself and attempting to set his mind elsewhere. There were too many "what ifs", and his fear was that they might transform suddenly into torrents of "when". By then, it would be too late. Either Kenobi would be destroyed, or he would be unstoppable.

Vader balled up the disordered strands of thought. The concept was ridiculous. The fate of the galaxy almost never rested on one man's shoulders. _Almost_ never. The prophecy was still with him, as was the Force. He was the Chosen One. He couldn't allow his former teacher to gallivant around with such enormous power. If such energy was harnessed properly, the rise of a new Jedi Order would be imminent.

There had to be something Vader could do. Luke was proving a difficult fish to catch, though time would tell if the boy's resistance would hold up. Was there some sort of leverage he could hold over young Skywalker? Some alternative form of persuasion he could use, and still keep the boy's strength alive and focused?

It was a difficult objective. Vader would have to meditate on it.

His chamber slowly slid shut along with his eyes, his mind furiously active.

Leia drummed her fingers against the seat edge just beside where her thigh rested as she heard the loud hiss of the pressurization of the docking sleeve that extended to the _Falcon._ They were finally back with the rest of the main Alliance group, where Leia belonged, where she could delve into her quintessential self and put it to good use.

She still had worries nevertheless. Luke was going through some kind of psychological trauma, the cause of which she hadn't an idea of. Han was doing a poor job of hiding a nervous discontent; her guess was that he'd attempt to pay off what debt he had left in his old life to try and settle in with the Alliance, though he tried to hide that objective as well, for what good it would do him. General Kenobi still seemed to be hiding something that could prove to be pivotal, or at least important. Furthermore, Leia wasn't certain of Mara Jade's political (if not mental) stability, and Lando kept eluding confrontation. Frankly, Leia began to wonder if Chewbacca was having any personal issues that he might be hiding from the group. It was tough to read a face through all that hair, and, excepting a couple of objectionable phrases, she still couldn't understand most of the sounds coming from his mouth. _I'd hardly be surprised, at this point,_ Leia thought,_ if Threepio had a nervous breakdown. He'd fit in fine with the rest of us._

The sole remaining identity aboard the _Falcon _wheeled up to her, burbling inquisitively. She sighed, not really caring whatever the droid had asked her. "I'm just glad to be back, Artoo. Really glad."

Artoo tootled cheerfully in response, seeming to be the only stable member in the crew, and wheeled around, undoubtedly searching for Luke.

Leia couldn't help another heavy sigh. _Artoo's quite possibly the only one with any sense around here._

One tiny impulse traveled light-footed to the end of the miniscule nerve and continued smoothly through the meld between artificial and biological, up to the whirring control center.

Luke winced a little as Two-Onebee lightly poked his new fingertip, and experimentally flexed the hand. The joints felt oddly more smooth than those of his left hand, and he wondered just how strong these fingers were made to be. Enough, perhaps, to crush the ceramic mug that rested on a small table near the wall? No, the nurse favored that one, he already knew. Plus it seemed to still be half-full of cold caf. His gaze wandered over to the back of his mentor, who stood next to the huge transparisteel viewport at the other end of the ward.

Obi-Wan had already been treated for miscellaneous small injuries he'd sustained, and had refused the nurse's offer of a sedative to make him catch up on lost slumber. The nurse hadn't been easy to convince; Obi-Wan's identity remained a secret throughout most of the base and he wanted it to stay that way until necessary. This meant, of course, that he couldn't reassure her with the idea of a healing trance, and had resorted to "typical teenaged pig-headedness", as the nurse had put it, before stalking off to her next patient.

Obi-Wan, of course, had only smiled quietly at this and returned to his patient vigil at the viewport. Luke wondered what he saw there. Was it the same for him? Did he see the stars as beckoning hosts, inviting him to discover their worlds?

Leia was close by, and saw the question in Luke's eyes when they turned to her.

She smiled. "You're wondering about something."

He only nodded.

Her suggestion was wonderfully simple. "Why don't you ask him about it?"

Luke followed the slight incline of her head back toward the lone figure by the viewport.

His deviant reflection stared at him, smiling with the same ease it had had in that dream world he'd seen on Tatooine. "You're beginning to understand."

Obi-Wan stared back unflinchingly. Now the vision looked to be older than him by several years. He kept his voice quiet, not wishing to disturb the ward. "I assume you're here to tell me Vader still has an important role to play."

"Oh, no," the Padawan apparition shook its head, "not the man you think of. You see a murderer, a tyrannical conqueror. Much like Vader's master. No, we focus on the man Anakin Skywalker still. They are the same entity, but with two different names to two opposite sides, similar to a coin, and it is important we differentiate between those two."

"Anakin Skywalker," Obi-Wan bit out, "no longer exists, no matter how much I wish it so."

The apparition's eyes sparkled like the stars behind them. "Wrong again. You see? This is why you're only _beginning_ to understand. That 'abominable pride' of yours that you burned at the stake on Tatooine, as it were, is starting to return."

Obi-Wan smiled wryly. "You make it difficult for a sentient to keep an open mind. You're the refining fire, and I'm the steel to be tempered."

"I'm merely the bellows," the Padawan remarked. "You're keeping the fire yourself; we only gave you the means to get it started."

"I have many more questions. How many are you willing to hear?"

"All."

"And how many shall you directly respond to?"

The apparition grinned irresistibly. "Good question, that. What do you think?"

"I think you'll soon leave me to another phantom lake." Obi-Wan resisted shaking his head. "Imaginary water will do me no good."

"Nor would it do any harm," the Padawan pointed out. "But it is not simply imaginary water. It is, one could say, a mental embodiment of the Force."

Obi-Wan couldn't deny he was rather pleased to hear this. "And I tapped into it, then? I didn't receive any sense of increased sensitivity, for all that."

"Ahh, dear Obi-Wan." The Padawan apparition's eyes expressed the depth of a millennia-old sage. "You never went in deep enough for your feet to leave the bed."

"So we return to the issue of control," Obi-Wan murmured as he watched the face fade away, leaving his own reflection with its backdrop of stars shining brighter than ever.

Then to his surprise, another face loomed into view, and he turned to meet the true visage.

Luke smiled sheepishly. "Sorry if I distracted you…"

Obi-Wan waved it away. "Nothing to worry about. I see," he said, glancing down, "they're finished with your replacement."

Luke held the new appendage up, allowing it to be inspected. "It feels a little strange, but more realistic than I thought it would be."

"It beats having one without a synthflesh covering, anyhow," Obi-Wan mused. "Cybernetics were somewhat…different, before that invention."

Then Luke discovered what had been causing that feeling of absence. Obi-Wan wasn't supervising anyone. "Where's Mara?"

The Jedi smiled. "I figured she could deal with the 'inauguration' crew herself."

Luke's face lit up. "So she is joining the Alliance?"

"No, not yet. They merely want to make sure she isn't here for espionage. They're allowing her presence as long as she's under my charge. Which reminds me; it looks as if my class has grown."

"What do you mean by that?"

Obi-Wan's eyes were a pair of corusca gems alight. "I'm assuming you wish to keep with your training. Mara also wants instruction." His focus shifted over Luke's shoulder to Leia for a moment. "And if I'm correct, we might have another candidate."

She watched them converse briefly before the general turned his eyes on her. For a long moment Leia stared back, then felt an invisible beckon that wanted to draw her into the quiet conversation.

Luke turned to see her as well, and that was when her feet began following the line that would take her into a spinning turmoil of words, of thoughts, of ideas.

When she finally came to the destination, the general laid a light hand on her shoulder, and said, "Now you both need to know."


	10. Interludes and Meditations

THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS!

Shoutouts:

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Jedi from Rohan: (knowing laugh) Hopefully Elf with a Lightsaber will be up and running again in one form or another.

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Kynstar: Well, we'll see about that, won't we? Mwahaha… You might know what Palpy's plotting…or it might be something totally different…

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NathanPostmark: :D Yes, that's it, just… :D

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Luke and Anakin Skywolf: Aww…thanks again to all you Skywolves. The confrontation was a difficult one to think up, but once I got the idea it just…came. You know. ;)

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Zsych: Yes…I sent you an email with my answers to these issues. Hopefully it got through. But for anyone else who's taken up these questions, I have one thing to say: Never underestimate the power of the Force! Vader knew what he was talking about. And hopefully I'll be able to counter that "lazy bum Jedi" image.

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g: Hey, thanks for your reviews on my fics! I can't stand insipid romance crap myself, so obviously (hopefully) I wouldn't write it. There are a rare few authors in this world that have the ability to write more practical and realistic romance without focusing the story on it. This sort is occasionally necessary, as it is between Han and Leia for this fic, so I will put my best efforts forward at avoiding the dark path, as you so accurately put it.

Okay, now that that's done, time for chapter the Tenth!

That's right, the tenth chapter! To mark the occasion, I'd like to ask the reviewers to rate this fic out of ten, and say why. Yes, I know you all hate the "why" part, but it's to make me a better author, and in turn, produce a better fic.

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Interludes and Meditations

It was interesting, sometimes, how the galaxy could produce such peculiar humanoids.

Mara watched the first Chiss boy typing madly at the input pad by the main computer. The second was running DNA tests, and the third conducted a quick test of her reflexes. All three were flawlessly identical. Even more unusual, Chiss were rarely seen among the Rebellion factions, or the Empire, for that matter. They generally kept to themselves in the Unknown Regions, content with their own government.

Of course, there were always the deviants in every population, and the Chiss were no exception, as was proved by this efficient trio. They each couldn't have been much older than fifteen SY, but moved with a quick and experienced assurance.

Mara's foot automatically flung itself into the air with a solid tap from the tool in the youngster's hand. He nodded approvingly.

What mystified her was the absolute lack of spoken communication. As soon as one made an observation, the other would record it with little delay.

The question was irresistible. "Are you three Force-sensitive?"

They all shook their heads before continuing with their work. The one testing her reflexes smiled uneasily at her. "I am the result of an experiment conducted by a Chiss expelled from the society. Since I also could find no acceptance because of my…uniqueness, I came here."

"What about the other two?"

The smile grew more genuine as the glowing red eyes regarded her. "They are also me. I speak to you through one of my mouths. These three bodies are all controlled by me; you might say I'm the overmind."

She stared back for a moment, a fascination growing. "You mind telling me how this result was accomplished?"

He gave a helpless shrug, and tapped at her other knee, which gave a responsive kick. "I'm not sure. My creator has disappeared somewhere into the Outer Rim Territories, for all I know."

"I didn't know such a thing between different bodies was possible," she said simply. "Do you have one name, or separate ones for all three bodies?"

"Just one. Cayth'raw'nuruodo." He smiled again. "You're one of few who aren't extremely disturbed at my…er…split personality."

Mara tried not to roll her eyes at the implicated double meaning.

The one at the computer turned, and smiled as well. "You have just been accepted into the organization. Welcome to the Alliance, Mara Jade."

"Thanks, I guess."

Han had almost finished loading up. If all went as planned, he'd soon be off to Tatooine with a goodly sum of credits to console Jabba the Hutt. Part of him was anxious to break away from the Rebellion for a while…but part of him was sorry he had to go. Which was why he was sauntering down the halls in the main cruiser on the way to Leia's chamber.

He'd done a lot of thinking over the past few hyperspace trips. About bonds, mostly. Loyalties, friendships…and another kind he'd tried desperately to steer clear of since Bria. There had been a few women after that, sure…but none of the permanent kind. Not like this…

He suppressed a shudder at the insinuation as he walked on. _She _was mainly the reason he was staying around, and he hadn't even realized it for a good while. Han wondered at how the presence of one woman could make him stick around with a faction he didn't even believe in.

Or did he?

Shaking his head at his own thoughts, Han arrived at the door to Leia's room, and paused unexpectedly.

How would she handle this? Would she brush it off indifferently, or worse, pretend to care? Or would she really, truly be concerned?

__

Only one way to find out, he told himself. _She's harder to predict than a sabacc hand._

He pressed the buzzer, waiting expectantly for a couple of moments, resisting the impulse to look around and see if anyone was staring at him, his gaze casting itself to the floor.

The door opened, and he looked up—

It was Luke.

Han raised an eyebrow. "Hey, kid…you all right?"

Luke's eyes were unusually blank. "Uh…yeah. Mostly."

Han sighed. "Am I interrupting anything? Or can I come in?"

"Um…I guess." Luke woodenly took a step back, and exited the room before the door closed behind him, leaving Han to enter alone.

It was only a few paces into the bedchamber, but they seemed to stretch out into parsecs. Han certainly didn't profess to be taken in with all that hokey Force stuff the general had been teaching Luke, but it was almost as if he could feel something was wrong.

That intuition was confirmed when he saw her sitting on the edge of her bed, gazing out the viewport to the stars outside. She turned at his approach and he very nearly took a step backwards. Where Luke's expression had been vacant, hers was filled to the brim with horror; it was written across her face by the trail of still-wet tears that ran from either eye.

Leia seemed to be a moment in collecting her wits through the fog of emotional exhaustion; she quickly dried her eyes with the hem of her sleeve and smiled bravely up at Han. It almost broke his heart.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she said in a thick voice, as if that explained it all.

"What's going on? Who died?"

She sighed, the intake of air catching in her throat several times. He knew then she'd been crying for a long time. "No one died, Han, that's the problem…" A fresh bead trailed from the corner of her reddened eye. He was surprised she had any moisture left in her.

Surprising himself, he quietly walked to the bed, sat down behind her, and began to massage her back with slow firm presses of his hands. _Great. I should put off my departure a few days, just in case she's going to freak out on me._

"Maybe it's just the let-down," he speculated in a deliberately soft voice. "You've been through a lot, lately—"

"No," she snapped, startling him, "that's not it at all. You don't understand…" Her voice trailed off miserably.

"Understand what?" he asked, finding a tight knot near the back of her neck and starting to gently tease it out.

"How it feels to find someone you're fighting against should have been one of your closest allies," she mumbled. "How it feels to let the whole Alliance down by my very existence."

He shook his head. "You're right, I don't understand. I have no idea what you're talking about. You're the best leader the Rebellion's got, and plenty of allies to go along with it. If you'll recall, your very existence is basically what saved Artoo and the Death Star plans and therefore Yavin IV from being blown to subatomic particles, and all the Rebels on it."

"By the man that _should_ be my worst enemy."

"What, Vader?" Han rolled his eyes. "Don't delude yourself, sweetheart. He _is_ your worst enemy."

If her motion was smooth or not, Han couldn't decide. She seemed to turn her upper body in a blur, endowing him with the hardest slap he could ever remember receiving.

Surprised, his hazel eyes widened as he put a hand to his cheek, which he imagined had started turning a wonderful shade of vermilion as soon as her palm left it. "Hey, what'd I say?"

Her heated glare mellowed as her posture sagged and she glumly turned back to face the wall on the other side of the room. "I'm sorry. You're right; you don't understand."

"Well, maybe you can help me, then," he encouraged as he returned his hands to work out the stubborn knot.

She only sighed again.

"This isn't anything…Imperial, is it?" he questioned, ready to dodge another blow.

But none came. "I…it's…yes. It's very Imperial."

He almost tiptoed around the subject. "…Vader?"

Han could see the tightening of her jaw from his position, and that was answer enough for him. "Okay…what did he blow up now?" Han almost cringed at his own words. Funny how he was brave enough to race down a hall full of stormtroopers, brave enough to pull off a suicidal rescue mission, brave enough to assist in destroying the Empire's most valuable weapon, when he was afraid of a slap coming from one little princess. Though he might be on the receiving end of something more substantial if he ever called her that.

"My ideals, that's what he blew up," she muttered. "Did Luke tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Vader's his father, and to make it worse—"

__

Holy Hutts… Han thought he might go into shock as he interrupted. "His…_father?_ But how? I mean… You aren't going to tell me Vader's _my_ father, too, are you?"

Leia laughed bitterly, a astonishingly cold sound that chilled him to the bone. "Wouldn't _that_ be interesting. No, Vader's only got two children."

Then Han almost did go into shock, and thought, _Make that holy _flying_ Hutts._ "Did Kenobi tell you this?" he demanded.

She nodded numbly.

"Good. Wait here while I kill him." He rose, almost feeling angry enough to make good on the threat.

"Han!" Leia's sharp voice startled him. "It's not his fault. If you're going to kill anyone…" Her voice betrayed her.

"Well," he conceded, "that's what the whole Rebellion's here for, right?"

Han knew then that he'd permanently joined the Alliance, for better or worse.

For the first time in her life, as she walked down the sterile metal hallway, Mara wished there would be a small stone to kick along. No such luck here.

A strong (but morose) presence touched her senses, and she looked up to see Skywalker slowly coming her way. It looked as if he could benefit from a small stone as well.

He looked up at her, evidently feeling her approach as well; she was surprised to see his blank face where usually was an openly earnest expression. "Have you seen Ben?" he asked.

She paused. "Oh, Kenobi. No, I haven't…" A thought tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Let's try the mess hall. Wherever that is."

A barely noticeable spark of humor flared up and slowly died in his blue eyes, and he nodded once. "This way. Why do you want to see him?"

She realized then that she had no idea. "I…it's nothing important. Honestly, Skywalker, what's eating you?" she demanded. "The food isn't that bad, is it?"

He frowned, speaking without really thinking. "I just feel bad for Leia…and for me, too, I guess, now that we both know…" He sighed heavily.

"Oh, the relation can't be that bad of a thing," Mara remarked.

Luke was startled then as he came to a quick conclusion. "You know? You know about it?"

"Of course. Kenobi told me, just in case he wouldn't make it out of Cloud City." She shook her head. "Why are you so distraught about it? You'll still get along just fine."

"Easy for you to say," he snapped. "You don't know what it's like, discovering a thing like this, having it upend everything you believed in, everything you hoped for."

Mara shook her head. "I know what it's like," she argued. "More than you know. Besides, there'll be someone else. It's better to know the truth. Just think what could have happened if you hadn't found out until it was too late."

"Too late?" he barked, enraged. "Too _late?_ You think this isn't _late?_ I'm over twenty years old, and only now do I really know who he is. It's late, all right."

She was taken off guard, a rare occurrence, the like of which seemed to be happening more often than not lately. "What? He? I thought you were talking about the princess."

Skywalker stopped in his tracks. "Oh…you thought_…_ No." He shook his head. "No. This is something else entirely."

She looked at him closely. "Then who is this you were talking about?"

"I…" He flushed. "It's not important."

Mara snorted. "Important enough for you to burst a blood vessel over. That's what one would generally classify as Important."

He sighed. "Not now. You have other things to worry about."

"True enough," she conceded, and followed after Skywalker as he continued down the passage toward the mess hall. "You can tell me later."

If food alone could decide, the Rebellion would have won over their Imperial foes long ago. Obi-Wan's mood reached a new height for the day as he finished off his third plate of a tiny piece of medium-rare nerf steak and scalloped tubers. Though a bit chewy, the steak outshone Imperial mystery meat by a dimension or three. He wondered how the Alliance could afford the expense; perhaps they had smuggling connections that would help to lower the price considerably. Or maybe he'd just run into the officers' mess hall.

An elegantly dressed woman with short dark hair, perhaps in her late thirties, might have passed by if she hadn't caught a glimpse of his face as he looked up. "My," she exclaimed softly, "you're the spitting image of an old friend from the Clone Wars. Might you be a Kenobi?"

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he stood. "Genuinely so. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Her pleasantly surprised expression grew mystified.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "It's a long and strange story, Mon Mothma. Must I reintroduce myself?"

Mon Mothma lifted one eyebrow. "You sound like the general himself. Is his reputation so well-deserved that he arises from his grave to check up on us every now and again?"

He shook her proffered hand good-naturedly. "It's a delight to see you again. You look as young as ever."

She laughed quietly. "I might say the same for yourself. This is all very interesting; you'll have to fill me in on the details sometime later, I'm afraid. I was cutting through the mess hall on my way to a meeting. Would you care to accompany me?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, and spoke softly, for her ears only. "Thank you, but I'd prefer if my identity remained a secret, among friends only. It could prove dangerous to reveal it this early."

"I understand. Such is a rebel's life; that's one of the reasons the meeting's being held." Mon Mothma nodded genially at him. "I hope we'll have the opportunity to talk later."

He smiled and watched her exit before turning pensively back to his near-finished meal. _She seemed relieved to forget her cares for a moment in the name of a light conversation. I wonder if the Alliance's situation is worse than I thought,_ he mused silently to himself, his earlier good humor rapidly diminishing within. Sliding back into his seat, he wove his fingers together and rested his chin on them, planting his elbows on the table. His table was not far from the massive viewport at one end of the mess hall, and he was afforded a view of the coldly glistening stars as they hung in their accustomed tapestry.

The sight was soon interrupted, however, by a familiar redhead settling into the seat opposite him. Obi-Wan smiled ruefully, knowing most men would have preferred the change in scenery, when all he could think about was his hindered solitude.

"You know what's coming," Mara said.

Obi-Wan noticed Luke hanging back a little way off. "I know: I still have much to explain. Very well; what did you want to hear?"

She leaned forward and pitched her voice lower. "What's this deal about Vader? Skywalker here and the princess seem fairly distraught."

"Hmm." He leaned back and sighed. "I've already trusted you with one piece of information; I suppose another, no matter how shocking, couldn't hurt. It's a…family issue. Between all three."

Mara's green eyes widened slightly. "And they all know about this?"

"Vader doesn't know about Leia. And that's the way it's going to remain," he said firmly, then beckoned to Luke.

The young commander came forward hesitantly, as if afraid he was going to hear something else that would drive into his already faltering spirit.

"Sit," instructed Obi-Wan. "Luke, I believe you made a promise to an old friend of mine a little while ago."

Luke nodded numbly.

"Good. I wish for you to keep it. You're going back to Dagobah."

Luke's mouth opened in protest. "But I need to stay for—"

"Leia will be fine," Obi-Wan cut him off. "She has enough support here. You need to consider your own recuperation for the time being, and I can think of no better place. It's not exactly a hospital, but my Master will know what to do for you, even if you doubt it at the time."

Mara had maintained a vaguely interested expression the entire time. "And what about you, Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'm not going to Dagobah." Both Luke and Mara caught the roguish glint in his eye as he remarked: "I've got a better idea."

Darth Vader had been accessing much information dealing with quantum physics recently. His education on the matter had been makeshift at best; educational focus at the Temple had been more inclined to general mathematics and linguistic skills. The few things he knew for certain on the matter had come directly from comments and remarks made on the part of his own Master and a few others.

He remembered quantum mechanics had always been one of Kenobi's interests; the ideas presented would often fascinate the Jedi and sometimes send him into several days of extensive research on the presented matter. It was no surprise to Vader that Kenobi, out of all the others, should have employed teleportation. He'd developed a frustrating infamy with the librarians; often the matter he wished to view was somewhat obscure and extremely hard to dig out of the archives. Though the irritation had softened over the years, Jocasta Nu had rarely been much more than politely civil to Kenobi, as far as he remembered. Often at the ends of such sessions her patience wore thin enough to jab a mildly snide comment or sharp assurance of nonexistence of an archived item at Kenobi, likely to attempt to hasten his retreat…though that never worked the way she wanted.

Such studies had simply been one of his Master's private eccentricities, a thing to be tolerated. At the time, there hadn't been much more Padawan Skywalker could have done than that.

But now it was time for Vader's interest to pique. This ability could be a veritable weapon in the hands of a Force-sensitive…especially if the skill extended to teleporting other various objects than one's own person. Vader could not suppress a silent awe (and apprehension) at the power this could mean.

So, resolutely, he picked up on his meager studies, where they had left off decades ago in a different world.

Cayth'raw'nuruodo's fourth person stood with a flawless posture beside the door, and gestured extravagantly to the waiting pilot. "Milord Jabba will see you now, sir."

The pilot nodded gratefully, wearied and uncertain from the long wait, and stepped into the large chamber.

The young Chiss quickened his pace as he came back to his reception desk. Playing majordomo for a Hutt, he'd discovered quickly, was an…interesting job. His blue ears picked up on many the tidbit of casually spoken information in the antechamber just outside, what he found a valuable source for storing up knowledge.

Poor Dielo, his predecessor, had met her fate aboard a vessel when it was attacked by mercenaries bent on assassination. Unfortunately for the mercenaries, Jabba hadn't actually been on board; in fact, he'd been alive enough to be stirred into a rage at the destruction of his favorite pleasure yacht and the loss of a dependable majordomo, the like of which was in short supply. Cayth'raw'nuruodo had been working hard to achieve his irascible employer's appreciation, even though he was planning on leaving within the next few months. The happier the Hutt, the looser the slimy tongue, which the young Chiss had already found to be a reliable, if crude proverb.

"I can't believe it." Mara stared down at the control panel of the little armed passenger ship, which had a maximum occupancy of three.

"Still?" Her sole company shrugged. "Neither can I. But if there's one thing about Jedi I've learned so far, it's that they're unpredictable."

__

Sometimes, she thought. "What's Dagobah like? As in climate and life forms and such."

"Warm, humid, basically a jungle planet. It's got lots of swamps. And lots of semi-intelligent to stupid life forms to go with it, too." Luke shrugged. "Not exactly an ideal vacation locale, if you ask me."

"Tell me why this Master Yoda chose to isolate himself there."

Luke frowned in thought. "Actually…I really don't know. You'll have to ask him when we get there."

Mara sighed in disbelief. "You were here before and you didn't think to ask him that? To find out his motive?"

"Well…no. I didn't really think of it. It's a good question."

She had to stifle a groan. "Now how about you tell me why Kenobi's sending me along with you in the first place."

"He probably thinks it would be a good training experience for you." Luke smiled thoughtfully at her. "Master Yoda's a good teacher…despite the fact that he's one of two left in the galaxy."

"I never agreed to be trained," Mara explained with stretched-out patience. "Maybe this'll be a fun exercise for you, but I can think of several other things that have a higher demand on my attention."

"Such as?"

"Such as establishing myself with the Alliance. Such as establishing some other connections as well, supposing anything goes wrong with the Rebellion's ideas of conquest. Such as strangling the Emperor with my bare hands and burning down the Imperial Palace."

"Good luck," remarked Luke. "Let me know when you've nullified the Coruscanti defenses and I'll come in my X-wing to help."

"Thanks," she said gravely. "Don't forget a spare lighter, just in case mine runs dry."

"I'll remember it." He cocked his head a bit then, and looked straight at her. "Ben sent you in for Jedi training, right? You're going to need a lightsaber."

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it," she muttered. "What is it with you Jedi and lightsabers? They're not the only weapon in the galaxy, you know." _Just a really convenient one, is all,_ Mara thought to herself.

Luke's hand moved pointedly towards his blaster on his belt. "I know. It's just the weapon of choice. Not to mention it's really unique."

"Which Jedi have also been for a while. You start waving your saber around in public, and people are going to notice. More importantly, the Empire's going to notice."

"Too late for that," Luke remarked with false cheer.

Mara snorted. "Understatement of the millennia. Vader's got a neon target spray-painted all over your butt."

A smile twitched across his lips. "That's an interesting way of putting it. I think you'll find Yoda's a lot harder to pin down and paint targets on, though."

"Really. How effectively can a single…" Mara trailed off. "What is he, anyway? Kenobi never told me."

Luke frowned. "Uh…I'm not sure. I guess we can tack that on to the list of questions for him when we arrive. If he even knows," he added, half-joking.

Mara glanced over their ETA. "I'm going to head back to the bunks for a quick nap before we arrive."

Luke nodded absently, staring out at the hyperspace patterns. Mara would have to make it quick, all right—the Alliance's group was hovering in the Outer Rim not too far from Dagobah, but far enough away, as Dagobah and Hoth were in relatively close proximity to each other, with the gas planet Bespin not far off.

He thought it interesting how the three planets that had probably most affected him in the past little while were so close together, and arranged in a near-straight line that pointed to the Core, and to nowhere in particular in the other direction.

__

That's where I'm headed, he decided, _one way or the other. To the middle of everything, or to nothing at all._

__

A droid. There will be a practice droid from the storage across the hall in this room, approximately three meters from the door, intact with no parts in the wrong position…

There was a sharp _bang_ of displaced air as the requested droid suddenly materialized a few centimeters from the floor and crashed down into various pieces.

Vader locked his hidden eyes on the pathetic piece of machinery for a moment. Perhaps he was trying too hard, thinking of too many specifications. Some things simply came along better if one was relaxed, like meditation.

He worked on calming his buzzing mind, on settling back into the chair.

__

There will be a practice droid in this room before me.

The _bang_ resounded louder this time, from a closer location. Vader looked down to see the intact droid suddenly activate in total confusion. He speculated briefly of what such a trip would do to one of the bumbling officers just outside his chambers, then swept the idea away. It would create a chaos he didn't need to deal with right now, not in the midst of so many others. The Rebellion, Kenobi's sudden return…and at the moment especially Luke. Those three alone were enough to deal with, not to mention Palpatine's perpetually disagreeable mood and Xizor's increasing attempts to win loyalty to the previously mentioned Emperor (or so it appeared).

One at a time. He had to stick with his priorities, or everything would collapse on him. _Luke. The truth has just been revealed to him; he will no doubt be staying close to Kenobi for a short while at least._ That was a definite advantage, despite the pair's combined powers and Luke's inevitable instruction. The two of them would send off a signal strong enough for Vader to at least select the vague sector the Alliance might be in.

The practice droid, forgotten and bewildered, moved hesitantly toward the door, its metal feet clicking out a steady rhythm on the burnished floor.

Locking the door, Vader stood with his lightsaber in hand. Some practice might clear his mind better than anything else, he decided, and he might as well take advantage of the fact that he'd teleported the specific type of droid in here.

Sensing movement from the receptors arrayed all around its head, the droid turned to meet its aggressor and flicked on the built-in lightsaber attached to the end of its right arm.

Vader swept in mercilessly, immediately noting the droid's slow responses. His hand darted in, taking just enough time to adjust the dial on the droid's torso to the highest setting.

Whirring with renewed activity, the droid came in for a round attack, attempting to use Vader's poor position to its benefit. The Sith lord was ready, though, more than the droid knew, and thrust his blade into a half-defensive motion, sending the droid head over heels.

Disgustedly, he snapped off his lightsaber as he put an extra Force push into the droid's descent, scattering mechanical brains across the floor with the intensity of the impact. It was too unrealistic, fighting against these machines. He could predict their every move, and could easily hold his own from the total lack of mental attack. The only thing the droids were good for was developing his lightsaber techniques. And while Vader knew all too well how vital that could be to one's survival at times, it wasn't something he felt he should be focused on at the moment.

Perhaps it would be best, now, to settle into a lengthy meditation; some things had a way of revealing themselves while he probed the stars in thought.

And after that, he'd order better practice droids.

"Is that all you have at this time?" The unshakable voice came through clear and smooth, as well as the image on the screen.

"Yes, sir. I've sent you an encrypted filing of my recent observations from both the Rebel Alliance and the Hutt kajidic Desilijic, as usual. I trust you'll find them useful, sir."

The Chiss at the other end of the transmission gave a single nod. "Well done, Cayth. What about your other extensions?"

"I'm looking for ideal employment opportunities, sir. It shouldn't take long. I've already made contact with Black Sun and a few of the former members of the Bounty Hunters Guild. What do you suggest for my last extension, sir?"

"Look for something among one of the major smuggling organizations. You'll find abundant amounts of information once you're deeply rooted."

"I'll look into it immediately, sir."

"Very good, Cayth." Favoring him with a brief smile, the Chiss on the other side signed off with a flicker of the screen.

Cayth'raw'nuruodo sat back with a sigh as his seventh and last member turned to head for a new course in the Outer Rim, close to Nar Shaddaa. No doubt he'd be able to make connections there.

Closing this pair of eyes, he gathered himself together from all seven, taking advantage of a rare moment of complete solitude, his consciousness hovering in an indefinite place between each extension. He noticed body number six, as he'd designated it, was suffering from what seemed to be dehydration, though it was quite mild. The order to drink water channeled into the extension, which went on his way to fulfill the demand.

Cayth often thought that his consciousness automatically took on new layers of thought processes for each extension he picked up. Right now, each body could take on two layers of thought if all seven employed their brains thus, or the resources could be pooled to one extension in particular, which was a rare happening, as at least two of the bodies generally needed to be mentally active.

Musing, he wondered how it would feel to devote one's entire mind to a single body. _Limited, no doubt. But then, they wouldn't know the difference, would they?_

An oft-felt feeling of loneliness washed through all seven of him, and the one that had conferred with his superior let out another weighty sigh.


	11. Of Cabbages and Kings

Yes! I have finally come up with chapter eleven, which is quite the undertaking, this being exam month at school and all.

Shoutouts:

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Falcona and Luke: X as in Roman numeral, you mean? Gosh, thanks! So, how many of you Skywolves have read this thing now?

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Kynstar: Yes, the slapping…I thought it would be good for me to incorporate some…er…friction between H&L. After all, opposites attract, but not without rubbing each other the wrong way occasionally. ;)

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NathanPostmark: …Z…Z… (stutters) Um…yeah, that's…WHOA!! Are you sure? You really can't think of any criticism? I'll take that as a genuine compliment then…(grins) Zahn is my hero.

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Jedi from Rohan: The hasty feeling might have been because it wasn't written in haste at all…I think that deserves an explanation. When I get good ideas, the ones that people such as yourself like, I really do write hastily, before the idea leaves me and the accursed Writer's Block sets in, which was what happened last chapter. Also, you'll notice that many professional published books have very little, if sometimes no narrative description in the dialogue parts. I let my characters create descriptions of their own, etc. etc. And maybe you were harder on me because you _know_ me…(laughs) Good! I didn't want to get all tens, anyway.

Okay, people, since I didn't really get so many ratings last time around, I'm going to ask all those who haven't, or just didn't review for last chappie, to give me a rating out of 10 for this fic. Thanks, and on to the next chapter.

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Of Cabbages and Kings

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"Skywalker, Skywalker, Skywalker, Skywalker, Skywalker…" The ceaseless voice, more like a grating unintelligent noise, compounded inside his skull. The empty yellow eyes wanted to swallow him alive, to draw him into their festering sockets as the voice repeated in a torturous monotone: _"Skywalker, Skywalker, Skywalker, Skywalker…"_

A clawlike pair of hands closed in around his throat, fingers death-cold and clammy—

He sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat and shivering like a furless newborn weo-pup. Somehow the blanket he'd brought to his pilot's seat had twisted itself about his neck twice; he grappled with it, applying shaking hands to the task.

__

I feel cold…

Somehow it didn't matter anymore how cunning this evil was. The base fact that it was _evil_ alone was enough to send his mind writhing away as if it had been burned by the touch.

__

…Death.

Dagobah reeked of death, he remembered. He began shivering more vigorously, taking the blanket around his back and shoulders to clutch the ends together in front of him. "B-Ben," he whispered. "I wish you were here…"

__

The cave. Remember your failure at the cave.

He didn't want to. He wanted to push the memory to the farthest corner of his mind and leave it to shrivel into insignificance. However, there was also a certain wisdom in keeping that memory alive. It was a brutal but effective deterrent for him, an added insurance against a fall to the dark side.

But the horrific grating voice still echoed within, taunting him, pulling him to the brink of its own insanity with his own name as if attempting to desecrate his lineage.

__

It's been working okay so far, Luke thought bitterly, remembering Bespin. Vader was another reason he'd returned to Dagobah. He already knew the truth; now he wished to act on it, to receive a wise Master's counsel so he wouldn't go off and do something incredibly stupid again.

__

What was that saying? Luke tried to remember. _Oh, right: once burned, twice shy. Well, I've been cauterized,_ he thought wryly, glancing down at his cybernetic right hand. _I guess that would make me think things thrice over._

A loud thud coming from the bunks made him start; he glanced back for a moment.

Mara appeared around the corner, her expression lacking most of its usual dagger-sharpness. "Remind me not to sleep in the top bunk again."

Luke winced in heartfelt sympathy. "I'll try."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, it was just a dream." He tried to brush it off, to appear unalarmed. They needed to look for Yoda; he figured the nightmare could wait. "We should start searching again."

She shook her head slowly. "I don't know. There's something here that feels wrong."

"I know. It was here when I visited last. That's not really what's bugging me." He frowned. "Last time, as I was leaving, I was able to sense him from the orbit point. We've been there for half a cycle. He's got a really strong presence; we should've felt him by now."

That familiar spark shone in her eyes, growing steadily; Mara was finally starting to wake up. Luke speculated the delay might have been caused by a blow to the head when she'd fallen out of the bunk. She came up and planted herself in the copilot's seat, gazing out at the planet's atmosphere below them. "Obviously your plan isn't working."

"Not really, no," he agreed grudgingly. Luke had been convinced he would have been able to find Yoda immediately upon arrival, but that had proven not to be the case. "Maybe we should try something else. You have any suggestions?"

Mara cast a dry look on him. "You're trying to be witty with me."

"No, I'm not."

"Shut up, Skywalker, and think. Is Yoda the sort of being that would up and leave for a short while?"

He let out a snort at her inadvertent pun. "He hasn't got anything down there in the least that resembles a starship. If he's gone, either he went with someone or he was captured…" Luke blinked and shook his head at the thought. "But that couldn't have happened."

"Couldn't it have?" she questioned rhetorically, looking out at a mass of Dagobah's roiling clouds clustered together, forming the maddened center of a violent storm. "Is there anyone besides you, Kenobi and me that knows he's alive?"

Luke sat back, avoiding the impulse to roll his eyes. "How would I know the answer to a question like that? I'm just some farmboy that popped in on him one day for a lesson or two."

"It could be, if he was captured, that they're after you," Mara offered pragmatically. "The link would be difficult in the extreme to find, even from the best information sources, but one right connection can mean the difference."

Luke bit his lip. "But he wouldn't be captured just like that. Even the Empire would have a tough time of it, assuming they would be able to find him in the first place. All he's got is a mud hut, but he might as well have a cloaked fortress."

A soft tone rang out from the communications panel.

Luke and Mara exchanged glances.

"Could that be him?" she asked.

"No, he hasn't got any communication devices there either. At least, not that I saw."

Mara nodded, and flipped on the tracing inhibitor. "If it's not him, it could be someone that wants you. I'll answer it."

Leaning forward, she depressed the button. "Identify yourself."

A gravelly chuckle emitted from the unit. "Discover me, can you not?"

"Master?" Luke sat upright.

"Find me, you will, at these coordinates. Transferring the trajectory to you, I am. An unknown ship it will be, but do not be alarmed. Friends of mine, the Aing-Tii are."

"Okay…" Trying to collect his wits, Luke watched the navicomputer screen display the projection. "We'll be there shortly."

"Hmm. Much we have to discuss, I feel. With your friend, as well." With that, the transmission ended.

Mara lifted an eyebrow, partly at the twisted syntax. "He's friends with the Aing-Tii?"

Luke shrugged. "I've never heard of them before. Must be a group of some kind. Why? Do you know them?"

"No one knows them." She shook her head. "At least, that's what's generally assumed. They're a clandestine organization of monks that live somewhere in the Kathol Sector, I believe. Except for that, and their different patterns of technology, not much is known about them, or their species, which no one cared to mention to me."

Luke gazed poignantly out the window once more, his crystalline blue eyes shifting from the planet below to the stars light-years away. "I guess we can break orbit now."

"Did you really?"

He turned around at the voice he'd been expecting, had sensed coming all the way down the hall and through the door, with something equaling an eagerness for the confrontation.

"Did you really tell her?" Han's voice was threaded heavily with a deep cynicism, a sort of "I told you so" directed at everybody and anybody.

Obi-Wan ignored the fact that Han had walked into the tiny bedroom without so much as a knock and stood from his seat by the bed and small viewport where he'd been meditating. "Yes, I did. I told her the truth."

"It's tearing her apart," Han snapped, beyond caring what anyone would think about him and the princess. "I went in there and she was crying. She was _crying._ Does she strike you as the kind of person that would do that just for fun?"

Obi-Wan straightened his posture and stared at Han with an ice-cold glitter in his eyes. "This matter does not concern you."

The never-heard contemptuous tone from Obi-Wan was the absolute final straw in a pile that had been accumulating slowly ever since his last days on Hoth. Han lashed out, his fist driven by some incredible pressure within, and solidly punched the shorter man before him in the face.

The blow harder than he'd anticipated, Obi-Wan stumbled backward and fell into his chair, cupping a hand to his bleeding nose.

"I've had enough of this self-righteous Jedi attitude," Han snarled, his voice rising. "It's time you started treating people like people, and not some handy tools that you can save the galaxy with—"

"Han!" Obi-Wan rose again, wiping his nose with the handkerchief that had been lying conveniently on the small night table.

The voice backed with steel along with the fact that Kenobi had never yet used his first name stopped Han in his tracks.

The Jedi softened his expression. "I angered you deliberately to show you something, Han. Leia needed to know this, to know what she must deal with. Better for her to be prepared for something later than for it all to overwhelm her at once." He dabbed carefully at his throbbing nose again. "Your response was to punch me. Think of what she could do when angry if that was backed by a larger and darker power. I do not employ my powers lightly, Captain Solo, nor do I encourage it of anyone else."

Han absorbed this silently, and swallowed the tightness in his throat. "I'm sorry," he acknowledged bitterly. "I guess I really don't know what's going on, huh?"

Obi-Wan's face twisted slightly into contrition. "You're not the only one. There's something at work beyond the grasp of sentient psyche. Remember my teleportation?"

Han nodded once.

"I doubt I could do that again. I believe I was at the whim of the Force. If there are any tools being used, it's not by me, and it's with a true and final purpose."

The captain mulled this over. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm having a hard time convincing myself that this Force stuff is still a load of nerfshit. After what I've seen…" He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what to think anymore. I've been feeling sort of left out of it, you know?"

"I apologize." Obi-Wan winced and sat back down, holding a hand to his nose. "There have been too many things I've instigated here. Jedi are far from perfect, as you know," he said with a wry look, "and perhaps my own battles are conflicting with what needs to be done. My abominable pride is difficult to suppress at the best of times."

Han stared down at him, realizing what that statement would have cost anyone. "Well, I'm thinking sitting down and nursing your bloody nose while admitting your pride is a pretty good effort at humility."

Obi-Wan's mouth quirked into a smile. "I've envied you, you know that?"

Han's look of mild surprise magnified ten-fold. "What?"

"I've wished sometimes that I could be totally Force-blind, living on luck and my wits instead of relying on grounded thought and humorless serenity. I've wanted, now and then, to live on the other side of the law, just to see what it would be like." He looked out the viewport, and Han thought he heard a slight wisp of misery in the quiet voice. "I almost never wanted to be even the smallest part of the grand scheme of things. Kessel take responsibility; Force knows I've had to cope with it for most of my life. How many times I only wanted to disappear, to dissolve into a careless galaxy."

"Then what kept you with it all?" Han shook his head. "With the Jedi, with looking after Luke and Leia all those years?"

Obi-Wan's melancholy smile changed into just a smile, at its purest form. "Luke and Leia, and the memory of a dear friend."

Han paused in thought, seeing things were turning out differently than he'd previously supposed. "Well, I guess now's as good a time as ever to leave, then."

"Leave?" repeated Obi-Wan, feeling that Han was talking about more than simply exiting the room. "For where?"

The captain jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I've got a debt to pay off. Jabba the Hutt's been breathing down my neck for too long now, and I've got the money, so I'll be off to Tatooine for a while to straighten things out. I wasn't going to leave before because of Leia, but she's got you, so I guess I'll be going." He turned to leave.

"Wait," interjected Obi-Wan, and Han paused to listen. "I won't stop you from going, but consider that Leia needs you more than anyone else right now."

Han turned to regard the Jedi for a moment, then grinned. "What with the bounty hunters and all, this is the first time I've ever been able to say it's nice to be a wanted man."

He had been part of the Jedi Order. He had been the commander of a task force in the Clone Wars. He had gone into and come out of conditions and repercussions that might have killed a lesser man. He had known love, hate, friendship, and betrayal. He had a nearly unobstructed connection to the Force and had learned to use it well, to the point of it becoming a reflex. He had discovered new and different ways to use his powers. He was second only to the ultimate driving power behind the Empire. He was the Chosen One.

Yet still something was missing, some part of his soul and desire left unfulfilled, after all these years spent in pursuit of destiny. It felt, now, like an unspeakably massive waste of time, a depressing thought even for the lord of the Sith. This oppressive feeling had a major influence upon his currently surreptitious decision, one he'd been secretly contemplating for years, weighing the possibilities.

And now all these thoughts, feelings, and potentials rushed in upon him while he stood on the bridge of the _Executor,_ gauging the stars with hidden eyes. "Admiral Piett."

The man was beside him instantly. "Yes, my lord?"

Vader turned solemnly to look down upon his subordinate. "Tell me, Admiral, who I am," he said.

Piett blinked, obviously confused. "You are Lord Vader, second-in-command of the Empire, my lord."

"That is incorrect." Vader had the satisfaction of seeing Piett's eyes widen and lips part in astonishment. "I wish to set this ship on a new vector."

"But…but my lord…" Piett stammered in bafflement. "The Emperor gave his direct orders for the _Executor_ to arrive in orbit above Imperial Center."

Vader's stare looked baleful, even impeded by the mask. "I command this ship, Admiral, and _I_ am giving you a direct order. The _Executor _and her entire crew are officially seceding from the Empire."

Piett remembered from a long time ago, that on the _Executor,_ an officer (considered expendable by his senior officers) was placed close at hand by the rest of the bridge crew. This officer had two tasks; head of communications, and a special responsibility created for one sole purpose. At the mention of desertion from any rank of command above him, he was assigned to receive the news with good cheer. The creators of this failsafe had decided that the reaction of the supposed deserter would inform them if the announcement was a test of Imperial loyalty, or if it was actually true.

So it was that a certain lieutenant began to grin like an idiot.

And even though that lieutenant was faced away from Vader, the Sith lord pointed directly at him. "You will need no tests, Admiral. I am genuine in my orders. Now carry them out if you suppose you are a part of the Imperial Secession."

Piett couldn't help a bemused half-smile, and a thrilling giddiness rushed through him. They were breaking away from the Empire. He no longer had to be underneath the tyrant that called himself Emperor. What an opportunity… "Yes…yes, my lord. As you wish."

"Jorj."

He stopped humming softly to himself, but didn't turn from his vigil at the expansive viewport.

The dulcet voice came again, insistent. "Jorj. You are wanted in the antechamber."

Jorj Car'das fumbled for the control stick, making his hoverchair slowly rotate to look at the speaker.

Heray's feathery crest shifted in a lazy ripple from burnt orange to a lustrous green as he cocked his head to a profile to peer from one large black eye. "Come, Jorj. The Master wishes to speak with you."

Car'das leaned back in the chair, resting two fingers on the control stick to follow after Heray's curious gait. "Right behind you."

The Grand Hall never failed to impress Car'das; he found it difficult not to look up in admiration at the extraordinary architecture that wove itself above and around him, appearing to be half-living with a stunning crystalline quality to the numerous arches and apertures to various other areas of the massive ship, which was itself a work of art on a magnificent scale. Sounds were directed through sinuous twists and nearly converted to flute-like notes; as Heray and Car'das passed through the Hall the faint residual music reached their ears in light mellifluous tones. Up each willowy pillar rose etchings of stylized images and glyphs that appeared exotically alien to human inspection.

At the very end of the Grand Hall, the ceiling, which had already risen dozens of meters above Car'das's head, rose higher in the curve of a vast dome that possessed the same aesthetic qualities to the eyes and ears as did the Hall. A full half of the circular wall was a viewport of a size seldom seen, lending an enhanced open quality to the antechamber that put all tendencies toward claustrophobia to flight. Car'das had seen much of the galaxy by now, being in his mid-seventies, but he'd never before been surrounded by such resplendency.

Master Yoda's tiny form was dwarfed unimaginably by the antechamber, making him appear to be no more than a tiny speck of being as Car'das and Heray approached, though his presence might have filled the room as he turned around at their entrance.

Car'das's Fosh escort bowed and lightly bounded away on his reverse-jointed legs. Jorj found the species as fascinating as their architectural wonders, but turned his attention to Yoda.

"Leaving soon, I will be." The gravelly voice reflected off the walls, but instead of echoing across the room was directed upward to its metamorphosis into music near the lofty ceiling.

Car'das manipulated his hoverchair closer until he was only a meter away from the diminutive Jedi Master. "I thought you weren't yet finished here."

"Many things to be done elsewhere, I have. Told you, I did, of the instruction which I must devote my energy to. Coming here he is, for a little time, then leave we must." Yoda gazed sharply up at him. "Disappointed, are you?"

"A little," Car'das admitted. "I was hoping you'd stay around for another while. There are still a lot of things I'd like to find out."

"With the Aing-Tii, you are," Yoda said reprovingly. "Many things they know."

"But in a different way." Car'das tried to shift his seat without letting any pain flare up in his legs. "You've got a different perspective on how the Force works, and I'm still curious."

"And enjoy watching the debate, you did." The Jedi's tone made it difficult to know if he was scolding or humorously remarking upon an event.

"Of course." Car'das smiled. "It was a fascinating spectacle, seeing the chieftain of the Aing-Tii face off against a nine hundred-year-old Jedi Master. I learned much in just that hour."

Yoda tapped the point of his gimer stick against the luminous floor thoughtfully. "Much to learn, you still have. And much to teach have the Aing-Tii. Wasted here, your time will not be."

Car'das could not resist a heavy sigh. "This sentient that's coming to you; his timing isn't exactly auspicious, is it? I can tell you were planning to stay longer."

"A diverging from one path I saw, is this. But no less real is it because of that. Rest on one future, I must never, or thoughtlessly meddle in destiny I will. A greater danger to those around me, there is not."

"Except if you turned to the dark side," Car'das thought to point out.

Yoda blinked owlishly. "One and the same, they are. To control another's life, to harness it within my own grasp, to dictate their every action and ensure a certain fate; manipulative power, that is. Dark power."

"And that's why you gave me the choice of what to do after Dagobah."

"Be you Jedi or smuggler, find your own way you must." Yoda's hooded gaze remained on Car'das. "Docking, my student soon will be, and then leave you I must."

"Can I not meet him, at least?" Car'das asked him. "You've made it sound all very interesting."

"Factor into this, interest does not. Safeguard his teaching, I must, for the sake of all we aspire. Keep your knowledge of this matter secret, you must also."

"Or you'd have to kill me," joked Car'das.

Yoda didn't smile, didn't move a muscle on his face, but Car'das thought he detected a twinkle of humor in the wizened little creature's eye.

"Very well," Car'das said at last, beginning to rotate his hoverchair. "Take care, Master."

"May the Force be with you," the gravelly voice followed as he slowly accelerated down the Grand Hall.

The sight that confronted Luke and Mara upon their return to realspace was enough to take the breath out of any sentient with lungs.

There were literally thousands of ships before them, studding the vacuum at nearly regular intervals. The oblong starships radiated at every possible point from the center of the giant sphere they had made, dozens of kilometers in diameter. Each one faced out towards the stars, away from the center, away from the main ship, keeping watch over their territory as a gigantic bristling ball. Many starships held ground inside the established perimeter, making it look nearly like a messy array around their object of defense, except for the eerie alignment.

"Well," murmured Luke, finding his voice, "here goes nothing. I'll see how close I can get before they want to establish a connection."

Mara gazed silently out the viewport as Luke piloted the little ship forward. The details of the alien starships became clearer and more precise as they approached. The hull plates looked to have been patched on randomly, but formed a definite shape nevertheless. Strange markings were etched all over the outer hull, making the entire thing look like a hieroglyphical history book. Conical shapes protruded from the ship haphazardly; for all its asymmetry, the ship might have been half alive.

The comm unit crackled to life, and a melodious alto voice warbled out. "Friends of Jedi, you are permitted clearance to the Homeship. A guide to the docking bay is being transferred to your onboard computer."

Luke ordered the computer to accept the route, and looked to Mara. "I hope we're not getting into anything nasty."

She leaned back in her seat and remarked wryly, "Oh, that's comforting. You don't even know what to expect? I thought you knew this Yoda."

"Not that well, believe me. I was only on Dagobah for a few days, really, though it seemed a lot longer then."

Mara shook her head. "Did you recognize that voice as belonging to any of the species you know?"

"It was unfamiliar," Luke admitted, reading the directions. "Nothing I've heard before. And I've heard a lot, really. Lots of different creatures passed through Mos Eisley and Anchorhead back home." He pressed the ship forward again, through the blockade shell towards the centerpoint of the sphere. "I really have no idea what these people are…but I guess we'll find out."

"In due time," Mara murmured.

The sight of the Homeship was even more striking than that of the battleships. It housed faerie-like architecture, the structure seeming delicate but more than likely built of something extremely resilient.

"It's beautiful," Luke said quietly. "Looks like we're landing between those two pillars there."

Their ship pulled through the gap, passing by the sentinel pillars that gleamed with a lucid quality, sending off a faint tinge of greenish light to highlight the clean-edged corners. The docking bay itself was expansive and wonderfully made; Luke felt somewhat embarrassed at seemingly marring it with the comparatively blockish industrial transport they had taken, clumsy and utilitarian as it looked, though it was one of the most graceful armed personal transports in the Rebellion's fleet.

"All right," Mara said, rising from her seat, feeling none of the self-conscious apprehensions Luke had. "Let's get this over with."

Quick, light strides carried the bundle of feathers called Heray down the hall at a running pace for a human. He was a messenger, and a greeter. Heray's clawed feet moved him forward with short bursts of energy, small for even a Fosh, though one of the fastest runners among the Aing-Tii.

Life-giving oxygen was not in short supply aboard the Homeship, nor any of the other battleships. It flooded into Heray's lungs, coursed through his veins, fed his never-satiated muscles as he sprinted forward light as one of his many feathers.

The top array, his crest, shifted into a new spectrum of color as he bounded from the Grand Hall to a side passage. The music had changed; he loved this hallway especially for that reason. This one had the tendency to lend an eerie quality to the diaphanous notes that bounded from the ceiling, making him shiver delightfully in appreciation.

__

One beauty cannot be traded for another, he thought to himself, comparing the faerie music of the Grand Hall to the spectral tones of the lesser corridor that led to a few of the docking bays as he often did. To Heray they were both too splendid to replace one another.

As he rounded the corner he noted, first, the pair of humans looking at their surroundings in wonder, and then directing the same look to him when his entry caught their eye, though their astonished curiosity was quickly replaced with what was probably their usual greeting expressions.

"Welcome, friends of Jedi," Heray chirped sunnily, slowing his sprint to a trot, then coming to a halt before them. Confound it, how did these humans ever come to grow so high? He looked up at them and shifted his crest to the hospitality color, somewhere between blue and green.

Evidently these humans could not read crest signals; the male shifted his weight from one foot to the other before giving a slightly uncertain bow. "I'm Luke Skywalker, and this is Mara Jade."

"Here to see Master Yoda." Heray tilted his head to the side, allowing his feathers to shift to an iridescent silver. "If you would follow me."

Every time he looked out the viewport, a veritable swarm of TIEs raced past. Every time he consulted the scanners, more carriers, more Interceptors, more Star Destroyers made their arrival.

It was fascinating how people reacted once they were given options on how to live their lives.

At this rate, Vader was tempted to begin to make plans for the conquest of Imperial Center. The sight of the sheer numbers before him was tantalizing, but only that. He knew such an offensive was doomed to failure at the moment. True victory would not be achieved in pitting soldier against soldier; the only thing really pivotal was the death and complete destruction of the man who called himself emperor, the controlling tyrant.

__

Why, wondered Vader, _is it always concerning control?_ The issue was everywhere. And surprisingly, he didn't find the position of absolute command as exhilarating as he'd imagined it to be. Millions of men were gathering, assembling before him, putting themselves willingly under his authority. It made sense, after all; they were loyal Imperials, readily discarding the idea of joining any sort of Rebellion but festering under Palpatine's narcissistic dominant reign. With Darth Vader now presented as an option, though he had the blood of many an Imperial officer upon his black gloved hands, it seemed good a choice as any. Vader was no tactical idiot, to be sure; he'd learned many a thing first-hand and the hard way during the Clone Wars, and had caught on quickly to the general operation of things. He was good at inventing skillful maneuvers, both on a personal combat level and on a grand scale. Victory, or at least a better life for however much longer it lasted, was an increasing possibility under the lord of the Sith.

Darth Vader, too, was enjoying the feeling of freedom, of having cut off his master's leash, to let it be bound upon some other poor creature. Now was his time to put things the way he'd always thought they should operate.

"My lord…" Piett came up to him, holding loosely a small datapad. "We have a rough tally of the numbers; it will need revising in the near future but it's good enough to operate on now."

"Very good, Admiral. How many ships?"

"Each with a full complement of lighter ships in their hold, we have approximately four thousand, five hundred fifty-three…I mean, fifty-four Star Destroyers," Piett corrected as he saw another emerge from hyperspace. "Three hundred twelve Interceptors, and it's been reported that more bulk cruisers have arrived; the tally for those will take a moment longer."

"There have been speculations on a new form of government, no doubt," Vader mused.

"Yes, my lord, there have been some questions," Piett confirmed, sounding curious himself.

"Arrange for a meeting room. There will be a High Council, a seat for each representative of a collection of ships. We will sort out the details," said Vader, "when we come to them. There is enough organization to be taken care of at the moment."


	12. Tailgate

As I stated in my bio, I'm awfully sorry about all this…but this story has no end. It never did. I'm not sure why I started it. If you want to, feel free to take the plot and distort it all you want to make your own fanfic. However, I will not say I was _sorry_ I ever started this. It's been a good experience for me to experiment with techniques and style. So, basically, it's been fun. I thank you all very much for your kind reviews. But don't despair…someday, I may return to this, and finish what I have begun, but for now I must say adieu to Jedi Dawn and move on.

Shoutouts:

Falcona Skywolf: Five out of ten? No, not shabby at all. (grins) Thankee.

Kynstar: Well, yes, but Vader leaving Palpy like that wasn't exactly HIS decision to begin with…bah. That was part of the plot, but it wasn't enough. You'll probably get the idea from the little I've included here.

kyer: Well…well. (sheepish grin) I guess this would be the "disappoint", then, eh? Darn it all. These plot bunnies sink their teeth in deep, and then they let go when one least expects it.

knbnnate and Jedi Nifet: If I ever do come back, I promise I will pop Qui-Gon in quite a few more times.

Eowyn Skywalker: Augh. Padawan, I just know you're going to plague me about this…believe me, I'm more put out than you probably are at the moment.

hewgleymom: Thank you for your concern! I really appreciated your questions. Those two reviews were really the only things that spurred me on to struggle this last little bit out.

Anyway, this is a very short last shot, without much of an ending, although Obi-Wan's very last thought at the end is sort of applicable as my own about Jedi Dawn. Eerie, no? Seeing as I wrote it a month ago.

* * *

Tailgate

* * *

He was pleased it had gone so well, really. Obi-Wan didn't mind spilling part of his soul out so much as another not being able to trust him. He was starting to connect with the irascible Captain Solo, for possibly the first time. Han had never seemed particularly choleric around the others; Obi-Wan supposed he'd made an unintentionally bad first impression.

It happens to everyone, he thought, _no matter how friendly you put yourself out to be. At least that bad impression's in the mending, now._

He'd had more time to himself now that Luke and Mara were out to put themselves under Master Yoda's tutelage, and had been discovering an odd sensation within him. It wasn't vertigo, nor was it some sort of infirmity; rather, like an undefined but unshakeable certainty rooted deep into his mind. He had been moving with more confidence, lately, had had more control over situations, along with increased foresight. Obi-Wan wasn't sure when it had come, and didn't know if it would last, but he would use it to his full advantage. That had been one of the main principles at the Jedi Temple; to employ one's strengths, to use them as one could to further the purpose of the Jedi.

Every movement, he found exhilarating. Every conversation, he taught and learned.

Never did it occur to him that things might perhaps be going too well.

* * *

"Your Highness!"

The footsteps of the harried man were loud in the otherwise quiet, dark room. He tried to catch his elusive breath as he came to a halt at the base of the stairs, daring to go no further. "Your Highness, the Moff Council is in turmoil…what are your plans to this situation?"

"Do you imply," cut in the cold, almost lifeless voice from behind the chair at the peak of the staircase, "that I have become, as yourself, frightened of the dark and uncertain of what to do?" The chair rotated, and the Moff at the base of the stairs barely managed to keep from flinching under the cutting, noxious glare. "You contemptuous fool," Palpatine spat. "If you wish to preserve your life you will leave your betters to manage the 'situation', as you designate it, by themselves."

The Emperor imagined that the air surrounding the Moff would have reeked with pungent fear as the underling beat a hasty departure.

The fools, unable to see the grander design. A disgustingly unpleasant smile stretched across Palpatine's pallid features. They believed that the present circumstances had not been foreseen by their Emperor.

Palpatine reveled in the idea, a near-silent cackle shaking his withered throat. The Emperor was by no means a mere bystander—he was the _instigator_ of all these things, down to the petty details! Vader had seceded—yes, Palpatine had wished it so. Kenobi had discovered but not harnessed an ancient and incredible power—that was in the design. The Emperor's eyes and ears were everywhere, but more importantly his will and power as well.

Everything was moving along as planned.

* * *

I hope this is going to work out all right. I hope Master Yoda doesn't try another one of his patience tests on her. I hope these Aing-Tii are going to stay as friendly as this one seems. I hope—

"Skywalker," came her voice. "Wake up."

Luke snapped his gaze to Mara, who was looking over her shoulder at him.

"You're falling behind," she elaborated as he quickened his pace accordingly.

Heray gave a quick glance back at them, then his crest shifted to a burnt orange and he kept moving along ahead of the pair. His opinion on the strangeness of humans was magnified—their legs were quite substantially longer than his, but it was clear to him they would never be able to match his speed when it came to a dead run. He speculated, as he trotted along before them, that the slowness was perhaps due in part to the thickness of their legs, and not affected so much by the length.

Mara had to give her grudging fascination to the architecture of the marvelous Hall. Rarely did her eyes stop wandering over the strangely beautiful compositions. She nudged Luke, pointing her chin to one of the pillars, over which were hundreds of fabulous hieroglyphs. "What do you think they say?"

He turned his head to get a bit of a longer look at it as they passed, then shrugged. "It's a mystery to me. Although I almost don't mind."

She silently agreed as they passed far beneath the twisting, winding crystal that danced without motion near the ceiling, ceaselessly converting voices into its music.

* * *

"We're taking action."

"Leia, please, it's senseless to make an abrupt move when—"

"What's senseless is to sit here until they begin moving. By then it could be far too late to get anything done right. I thought acting on instinct was something Jedi could handle."

Obi-Wan sat back and shook his head. "That's the sort of thinking that can get a person killed."

"So," she said, eyeing him, "you're telling me you act on instinct while _pretending_ to use your brains. Is that your secret? It's not very impressive."

He couldn't hold back a wry smile. "Some Jedi I once knew would likely have made most of their decisions that way, but that's not my point. Making this sort of decision is a little more complicated."

Leia tapped a fingernail against the mug enclosed within her fingers. "All right, what are your suggestions? How am I supposed to approach this?"

He smiled, an easy expression, and leaned forward until his elbows both rested on the tabletop. "You aren't."

She frowned.

"We're taking more of a roundabout advance on this problem," he explained. "The main thing is to think without thinking, to anticipate without anticipating. Leave all doors open: many ahead of you, and a few behind just in case an obstacle crops up. Eventually we'll see something down one of the doors, and…" He raised his own mug and took a long draught.

"And then we begin to think," she finished as he set the drink back down. "Then what?"

"Then we do what is required of us _then_." He twisted his features into a faint grimace. "This caf has a terrible aftertaste."

"I have reason to believe it's almost a day old. So what you're saying is, we'll fly that canyon when we come to it."

"Precisely." He nodded. "That's no excuse for procrastination, of course. But at the moment, it's all we can do. It's what many a soldier does, especially in a war—you live from day to day, committing yourself to only the tasks that lie from waking to sleeping again. It becomes a way of life; I'm sure you're familiar with it."

Leia smiled tentatively. Of course she was familiar with it. Though political plans had often stretched to much longer-term aspirations, the duties of daily life were enough of a strain on their own.

He took a long, deep breath through his nose, letting it out likewise. "Now you see what I'm aiming for, I hope."

She clasped her hands upon the table, staring down at where her fingers intertwined. "Tell me what I should do."

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped to her face. "Do? No, we do nothing. Well," he corrected at the look she gave him, "not to the extent of simply floating around and waiting for something awful to happen. What we do is act in the hope for guidance. Stepping off the cliff, if you will, and trusting that there will be something to hold you up until you know how to keep going."

"And that," she remarked quietly, "will probably be the most difficult part of all."

"Yes," he conceded. "The most difficult. But almost never impossible. That fact must be foremost in your mind."

A sparkle flickered in her dark eyes. "I thought you said I wasn't supposed to think at all."

He raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at one of the corners of his mouth. "Didn't Bail ever teach you anything about the connected polarities of paradoxes?"

"No. I guess I was too busy annoying him about it." Leia tried to smile, failed.

"Hm. As I recall, he was something of a paradox himself. Ruthless pacifist, humble archetype… It was difficult giving you up for hiding, but your father made it much easier."

Her eyes focused at some infinitely distant point beyond his shoulder before coming back on his face. "_He_ was my father. I'll never have any other." Where a different person might have uttered these words with a wistful voice, her words were firm and stubbornly resolute.

She might accept the fact, he thought, _but she'll never accept the idea. I don't suppose I can blame her._

* * *


End file.
